


Inocencia y Pecado

by DjarinsRiduur



Series: Inocencia y Pecado [1]
Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cigarettes, Cussing, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29646630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DjarinsRiduur/pseuds/DjarinsRiduur
Summary: One year before you met him you were just getting out of your home country and looking for a fresh start. Life had become mundane, full of the same things. So, you decide to book a one way ticket to Colombia for a teaching job that has shit pay.
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader, Javier Peña/You
Series: Inocencia y Pecado [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178498
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Inocencia

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is posted on Tumblr as well. Yes this is a re-upload for here as well. So if you're reading it again, it's the same author, I just had to fix it. I'll put the warnings for the chapters in the note here so y'all know what you're reading. 
> 
> Warnings: Explicit, cussing, slight smut, male masturbation, Javier Peña comes with his own warning.

“Gracias,” you said as your passport and visa were handed back to you. Trying to converse with people in broken Spanish was much more difficult that you expected, but they didn’t seem to mind. Several helped you through it showing you how pronounce the words properly. Others just continued on in conversation as if they didn’t hear you say the wrong word due to your lack of an accent.

Stepping outside you were blasted with a wave of heat. What prompted you to move to Colombia in the middle of summer you’d never know, but there was no going back now. After calling the building you were supposed to be living in three times to check your apartment was still yours, and calling the school to secure your job, you had begun to feel a little better about being there. Of course, you knew what had been going on down here. Pablo Escobar had built an empire on cocaine which resulted in havoc being wreaked on the people of Colombia.

Was it a stupid idea to move here in the middle of war? Absolutely. It was probably the worst idea you’d made in your life, but you didn’t care. Life at home had become stifling. You had been dating someone for three years and when he hinted at dropping to one knee your mind went into a place of rethinking everything that had led you to that moment. Did you want to marry him? Your answer was a firm no and so you told him that.

What you hadn’t expected was for him to react so badly, throwing you out of your shared house and telling you to go fuck yourself. Secretly you were thankful that you finally saw the true colors he never showed you, because you saved yourself from an unhappy life. One that you didn’t see going anywhere if you were to remain in one place after so long being unhappy. So, you quit the job you had as an English teacher at home and looked for one anywhere else.

Which is how you ended up now standing in front of a run-down building with your two suitcases and the sun beating down on your skin. Dragging yourself to the door you went in search of the older man who lived there who was keeping the key to your apartment. He apparently owned the building. The blue tint of the building stood out, but told you that it hadn’t been taken care of in quite a long time.

Knocking on the office door in the lobby area you searched for someone. “Hola. Señor Trujillo?”

A bang came from the other side of the room and a curse in Spanish followed it before a head of graying hair popped up. He groaned as he stood before seeing you standing there and offering a smile. He spoke English on the phone so you weren’t worried about embarrassing yourself with your horrible Spanish again.

“I’m here for the apartment. Y/N Y/L/N.” You stuck out your hand to shake his, but saw the grease on them from whatever he was working on behind his desk. Glancing over in that direction you could see a small piece of machinery that attached to what looked like a record player.

“Ah, my wife wants it fixed,” he said noticing your stare. “Are you the girl who called six times for the apartment?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at the realization you’d called so much. “Yes, I’m sorry to bother you so much.”

He waved his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ve had worse.”

The questions of what kind of worse came to mind, but you shoved them away. He had already endured your neurotic nerves through the constant phone calls for the apartment. You didn’t want to subject him to anything else. Besides the small part of you already told you what kind of worse he’d already dealt with, given everything that was happening.

“Are you a teacher?” he asked going up the steps in front of you carrying one of your suitcases, even though you said you could do it.

“Yes. I’m working at the school down the street.” You struggled to bring the large suitcase up the stairs, but didn’t let it show only something told you he could tell by the smile on his face.

“Is it good money?”

You knew why he was asking. Good pay to keep up with rent and while you wanted to say yes, you knew that it wasn’t. Thankfully you had enough in savings for you to last a whole year here and maybe some more with the salary from the school. They had seemed surprised when you called about the job, but gave it to you anyways. If you weren’t going to be scared of the situation and run with your tail in between your legs they weren’t going to press you on the matter.

“It’s alright,” you replied.

He stopped on the third floor and you heard the keys jingling and a door opening after that. You followed him into the tiny apartment taking in the sight of its qualities. Was it the best place ever? No. But it had a roof and a bedroom and from what you could tell, the kitchen was in working condition. You dropped your suitcase next to an old arm chair that you were certain came from the tenants before you.

“Bedroom is the first door and the bathroom is next to it.” He led you to each room showing you where things worked and where things didn’t. “Twist on the handle all the way to the right or left. It doesn’t work on the lowest setting,” he said explaining the science of the shower.

You nodded along doing your best to remember each piece of information he told you. The sink would turn boiling hot every once in awhile due to the heat of Colombia messing with the pipes. The stove didn’t work properly on its own. It needed a match to light it and you mentally wrote down matches on your shopping list. The fridge seemed to be the only thing that worked perfectly in the apartment, but still, you didn’t mind any of its bad qualities. It was a home to you.

“What do I do if something doesn’t work?” you asked.

“Come to me. I’m still working on finding a new handy man. The last one I had to fire, because he got into some business I’m not interested in having around here.” He began to head towards the door but turned to face you one last time. “Will you be okay here on your own?”

Really you hadn’t thought about that. Ever since you landed your one focus had been on getting everything sorted out, but now that you stood in the center of the apartment, your apartment, you felt better than you had in years. The past you left behind couldn’t haunt you there any more than it could find you and tears nearly welled up in your eyes at the thought that you were finally free. The air of independence you longed for after so long of being stuck to one person was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“I’ll be okay. Thank you, Señor Trujillo.”

“Please call me Miguel. Señor makes me feel old,” he said jokingly. “I may be sixty-three but I’m not dead just yet. Mi esposa won’t let me die.”

“She’d miss you too much,” you said jokingly.

“More like she’d miss me fixing things for her too much.” He got ready to leave before turning around once more. “Be careful going out at night. Not safe with the Sicarios.”

You made another mental note. “I will, thank you.”

The door shut and you were left alone, in your home, in Colombia. A laugh left your lips the echoed around the empty room, because you were finally somewhere new. This was your life and it felt like a crazy dream to you. Moving around the apartment you began to write down what you needed and what you didn’t. You’d already bought some furniture to be sent here and were expecting that within a few days, but for now you’d make do on the small arm chair that was there. It looked to be in good shape and you wondered if Miguel had brought it in knowing a new person was coming to live there, instead of it being from someone who’d previously lived there.

Dropping down into the seat you let out a happy sigh. The sun would be going down soon and you had to find something to eat before then. But after so long cooped up in one place, you didn’t mind exploring a new place; the place you now called home.

\-----

Three weeks later you had finally found a routine that helped you settle into life down in Bogotá. The teachers at the school with you were nice enough to invite you out every few days to show you around. During the day you taught children, but the night classes were relatively full of adults. It kept you busy what with coming up with lesson plans and grading papers, but once in awhile you found time to yourself.

“Chica you need to let me take you out,” your coworker and new friend Valeria said. She had been the first person to give you the tour of Bogotá and after learning you had been in a failed relationship and moved here to get away from it all, she remained by your side. You had to admit it was nice to have made a friend so quickly. Her and the man who taught math, Antonio were there for you when you needed it and that seemed to ease your caution of staying in the country.

“I’m okay, but thank you.” You had been turning her down every day for weeks, because you had heard stories about her type of fun.

Antonio stepped into the classroom holding the stack of papers he’d just helped you grade. “Here you go.”

You looked over the papers seeing everything was in order and hearing him drop down into a chair next to Valeria. She was busy with her own paperwork, but every now and then she would file her nails or let out a sigh from boredom. The only reason she chose to work there was because she needed money to help move to a different country. After getting her degree she found out that the teaching life wasn’t for her.

“What are we talking about?” Antonio asked breaking the silence.

“I’m trying to get her to come out with me,” Valeria pointed an accusing red nail in your direction. “But she’s being stubborn.”

Antonio laughed. “Valeria, I went out with you once and came home with a hangover that lasted a week. Estas loca. She is making the right decision to stay home.”

“Pendejo,” she grumbled at him. “At least she won’t be home again by herself. She needs a man. Even if it’s just for one night.”

You rolled your eyes without looking their way. Valeria’s long-standing belief that you needed to get under someone to get over someone came up at least once a day in conversation. While you had to admit it was a tempting idea to find a one-night stand and nothing more, you didn’t want to push yourself into something too fast. The men who worked at the school seemed to notice your lack of male attention and some had taken it upon themselves to give that to you. Even though you didn’t need nor want it in any way.

“It’s her choice,” Antonio argued back.

“She is sitting right here.” You looked at Antonio who was lounging back in the chair with the two front legs off the floor and his feet on a desk. “If I want to go out, I will go out. You don’t have to defend me.”

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Got it chica.”

Turning your gaze to Valeria you considered her offer once more and found yourself wondering if it was such a bad idea. You hadn’t been out to have some extreme fun in such a long time that you were yearning for it. The idea of letting loose. Breathing out a sigh of defeat you saw the way her lips curled into a smile.

“Fuck yes chica! I’ll pick you up at eight. Antonio you’re coming too!” She smacked him on the arm as he let out a loud groan.

\------

“Javi,” he looked up at the voice of Steve calling him. “We’ve got a stakeout tonight.”

He let out a sigh full of smoke. This was the one night he had off and was already planning on spending it drowning in whiskey and a woman he didn’t know the name of. Except now he would spend it cramped in a car with his partner waiting for something that might not happen. Another long night that would lead him to fucking his hand for some relief later on.

“They say where?” he asked tapping the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray.

Steve looked up from the file he was reading. “This club. I haven’t gotten the name yet from them, but they said Sicarios are known to show up there. They’re hoping to catch Poison.”

Javier’s eyebrows raised. “Poison? What time?”

“Seven.”

Steve got up from the edge of his desk and moved to the cabinet to file away what he was reading while Javier rubbed his forehead. Simply fucking fantastic. He already knew that they wouldn’t get shit from the stakeout, but this was the job he’d signed up for who knows how many years ago. Honestly it felt like decades to him. Some days he thought about quitting; leaving it all behind, but he’d been in this for too long and all he knew was this. There was nothing outside of this that he had and with another resigning sigh he gave into what the job wanted.

\------

He shifted in the seat feeling restless already. They’d been in the damn car for hours and still nothing was happening. Steve was ready to give in and call it a night as well and every few minutes he could hear Javier sigh again. They were exhausted from chasing other Sicarios earlier and this stake out wasn’t helping their moods. It was an everlasting stream of stress that always seemed to keep them drowning in the likes of cocaine. And not in the good way.

Javier needed to get to a bar and fast once this was over. If he was lucky, he could still find someone to bury himself in later, but he’d never had trouble with it before. The club’s sounds streamed to the outside and it began to get on his nerves after a while, but he ignored it the best he could. Get this over with. That’s all he had to do and he was free.

“Chica vamonos!” Valeria shouted dragging Antonio behind her as you pulled at the dress she lent you that was much to short for you own liking.

“I’m coming,” you called back. Crossing the street, you caught sight of two men sitting in a car together, but you didn’t bother looking any further, because Valeria was three seconds away from dragging you ass with her other hand so you’d hurry.

Javier sat up a little straighter at seeing a woman in heels and a short dress walk past the car. He could have sworn her eyes met his for a few seconds, but he figured it was his eyes playing tricks on him. Even he had to admit she was gorgeous. From the top of her head down to the heels she wore, she blew him away and he couldn’t deny that he was practically salivating just from one look at her.

“Don’t even think about it Javi,” Steve said.

“About what?” His eyes followed you until you were disappearing into the throngs of people, probably never to be seen again.

“We’ve got a job to do. And I want to fucking go home soon. So, keep it in your pants.” Steve turned his gaze back to the driver’s side window.

His mind kept going back to you the entire time he sat there and he wondered if maybe when this was over, he could get out of the car and find you. Except only he knew that you were pretty much gone. He was DEA and could find anyone, but a little voice in his head told him that he shouldn’t find you. _At least not yet_. Instead, he settled himself further into the car and pulled out his pack of cigarettes, lighting one up and hoping to calm his restlessness.

It was three hours later that he managed to get home. The day’s activities weighed on his shoulders and he stripped himself of his jacket before finding the whiskey he kept in his kitchen. He was hungry, but even he knew that there was no food in the fridge; just ice for his glass.

He dropped onto the couch taking a sip of the amber liquid and lighting up a cigarette before he let his mind wander. It was nearing dawn and he never got the chance to go out and find someone. Except he knew that that wasn’t the only thing bothering him. They hadn’t found anything on the chase or the stakeout and after a long day his nerves were shot to hell. It never ended for him, the painful twists and turns of a job that kept him always on the move.

Putting out the cigarette he let his mind wander back to the woman he saw at the club. The dress she wore looked far too small on her, but he couldn’t help the shiver that went down his spine at the memory of her cleavage and her bare legs. The heels she wore seemed to make her look even more ravishing and Javier was soon pulling himself out of the tight confines of his jeans.

Wrapping a hand around himself he let out a groan. Finally, after hours of stress he was going to at least relieve himself of some of it, even if it wasn’t the way he wanted. Images of her flashed in his mind. Her spread out on his bed, the heels still on her feet as she touched herself for him. The sounds she would make as he thrusted into her. All of it spurred him to stroke his length faster on the verge of a climax.

His head tilted back onto his couch and he cursed as his imagination came up with the image of her swallowing down his cock, her spit leaking out of her mouth and falling down her chin. With another tug on his cock, he came with a throaty cry over his hand, the relief washing over him and leaving him slightly dazed. He hadn’t cum that hard in awhile and he had the thought of what happened if he did find her. Would she be interested him?

Downing the rest of his whiskey he got up to go shower and clean himself off already exhausted from the orgasm and the stress. It would happen all over again tomorrow and he needed to get some sleep before he went crazy. What was supposed to be a short shower turned into him stroking himself to another fast orgasm to the thought of her. This time it left him grunting out a curse in Spanish, his head falling back and into the spray of water. He couldn’t understand how just seeing her already drove him to this, but he blamed it on the lack of sex he was having.

Another glass of whiskey before bed and he was already passing out before his head hit the pillow. He swore he needed to fuck someone fast, because getting himself off to a woman he had barely even glanced at wasn’t going to help in the end. The last thought he had before falling privy to the grip of sleep was how could a woman look so innocent.

He wondered if she was innocent through and through or if she held a streak of sin in her. For him he’d have to say it was the opposite. All sin with small specks of innocence he didn’t show to anyone around him.

At least not yet.


	2. Lujuria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year later you are sick of life in Colombia. The dark twists and turns of the city have left you feeling ready to leave it all behind and go home. Yet an agreement to go out with your friend Valeria may change things, once you meet him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yet another re-upload here. Ignore me being a chaotic mess who doesn't know how this site works. This fic is also on my Tumblr. I'll add the warnings for this chapter here just in case y'all don't know what you're getting into.
> 
> Warnings: Explicit, dirty talk (if you squint really hard to see it), fingering, cum eating, masturbation f (squint even harder and you’ll see it), p in v sex, slight rough sex, mentions of addiction and cigarettes.

What could have possibly gone wrong on a night out in Colombia? That was the question that bounced around in your mind as you fell back onto your bed with a stranger, his lips connected to the skin of your breast. What was so wrong about finding pleasure in the company of someone you didn’t know? He was handsome; the air of confidence around him practically seeping into the air around you, and he certainly knew what he was doing. So, you couldn’t see the problem.

What felt wrong however was the answer you didn’t possess to that question. What you didn’t know was to come as soon as you agreed to kiss him, to take him home with you. How were you supposed to know? How were you to read the warning signs when all he could give you was absolute pleasure? What felt wrong was that you didn’t know you’d fall into him, allow yourself to be consumed by him. All of it left an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach, but somehow, he eased it away with just a single look.

How were you supposed to know that you’d be tempted by sin itself, just to see a sliver of his heart, to see a small piece of what made him? You couldn’t know. That was the answer you didn’t have at the time. And somehow that made it worse, but still all the more tempting as time went on.

\------

One year in Colombia and you were on the verge of leaving it all behind and heading home. Being in a city filled with nothing but crime was slowly driving you insane, but you knew that you couldn’t leave yet. There were matters you had to solve like the matter of your paycheck. The school you worked at was only going to give you money for so long and while you were there to teach English the language itself wasn’t a priority for them it seemed.

“You need a night out,” Valeria said as you walked down the street. She picked at her manicured nails while you kept an eye out for the restaurant she had talked about.

“I don’t need a night out. What I need is to get out of this country,” you replied jokingly.

“Well until you escape chica, you need a night out.”

The door swung open and you jumped out of the way before it hit you. A man with blond hair stepped out, lighting a cigarette before acknowledging your presence and apologizing in a thick American accent. So, you finally concluded you weren’t the only one who wasn’t from this country. It seemed he wasn’t alone but you had already stepped inside with Valeria, before he too could nearly hit you with the door. You did however see a dark head of hair bend down to catch the flame of his friend’s lighter before coming back up, a trail of smoke following him in the air.

Ignoring the way your eyes followed him, you focused back on Valeria who was going on about the man she just met. While she wasn’t the best of friends with you, she stuck by your side knowing you didn’t really have anyone else. It was the only comfort you got from this country, knowing that you weren’t alone.

“Are you listening?” she asked with a smirk on her lips, as if knowing where your attention was. “Or are you too busy eye fucking the man outside?”

Your mouth fell open. “I wasn’t!”

“Okay.” She continued on with her conversation, and you made sure to focus your full attention on her, ignoring the way the man’s dark eyes seemed to glance your way before getting into a car and driving off.

You weren’t there to fall for anyone let alone start anything, but it was a tempting offer. To meet someone, to live wildly for once in your life instead of sticking to the plan you’d made for your life. There was an inside joke at your work with the men that you were inocencia, as innocent as they came. You were sure that the topic of your own virginity had come up many times among them, but you tried your best to ignore it. What did that matter? You knew you weren’t one yourself so why did you so badly want to prove them wrong? Prove that you could have fun every once in a while.

Perhaps that was what led you to eventually saying yes to Valeria. Her face lit up at the answer, saying she’d pick you up in a cab at seven before rushing off to her apartment. Thoughts of how you could spend the night instead also came up, but you knew that you couldn’t spend another night wrapped in a blanket ordering food. One night out wouldn’t hurt you in the slightest and it would hopefully direct Valeria’s questions about a man in your life to someone else.

That’s what you told yourself while you slipped on the barely there summer dress Valeria had made you buy two months ago. She told you that it wouldn’t fit her, but you also knew that this was her way of giving you a gift seeing as how it just so happened to be around your birthday. It barely reached mid-thigh, but you weren’t going to be fussy about it tonight. Not when you wanted to focus on having fun for once. Strappy heels were probably not the best idea on a night out in a city full of crime, but you slipped them on anyways. They went with the dress.

The horn echoed outside and you took one last look at yourself, letting out a breath to relieve the nerves before going outside. Valeria leaned against the car, a cigarette dangling from her lips as she held a compact up to check her eyelashes. Why she chose to become your friend still remained a mystery to you. She was outgoing and fun, while you preferred to stay home, relax after work and do nothing. Still, you were glad she chose you to spend time with. It got rather lonely being home on your own after so long.

Her eyes roved over your form before she pulled the cigarette from her lips and let out a whistle. “You look hot chica!”

“Definitely not as hot as you,” you replied, feeling more confident in the dress and heels.

She shoved the compact into her purse before opening the cab door. “No one can be as hot as me,” she threw over her shoulder.

The confidence she held astounded you. What you wouldn’t give to be able to say things like that with ease, as if you meant them entirely. Really you seemed to only be confident when you got either tequila or vodka into your body, allowing them to take over for you. It was terrifying sober, but with a buzz you could handle it; the confidence sprouting from nowhere.

“Where are we headed?” you asked glancing out the window.

“There’s a club that that guy I’m seeing told me about. Apparently, it’s hot shit,” she said taking another drag but making sure to blow the smoke away from you and out the window. She knew how much you hated smoking and you noticed that she gradually began to start puffing on cigarette less around you, which left you wondering that she must really think of you as a friend.

“What was his name again?” You tried to ignore the way your nerves built up again.

“Oscar,” she replied turning her brown eyes to you. “You’ll be fine chica.”

“Huh?” Were you that easy to read? Sure, you were nervous about going out, but was it that easy to tell?

She smiled as if reading your mind. “You’ve been fidgeting ever since we got in the cab. It’s just one night out. You’ll be fine.”

Nodding your head, you kept repeating her words over and over again in your mind. You’d be fine. What was wrong with one night out? You hoped that the crime in the city would stay away for the night, maybe even taking a backseat for the remainder of how long you lived there. Yet you knew it was impossible. Whatever happened would happen and you would have to just go along with it.

Besides, that’s how you ended up in Colombia in the first place. Going along with things.

\------

Music poured out of the club filling the air with the sounds of songs you recognized immediately. Cumbia mostly, but still they were familiar to you after hearing Valeria play them at work. You thanked her silently for teaching you how to cumbia in the first place, only having known how to do a few steps here and there. Dancing wasn’t your strong suit, but you hoped that no one would mind, if you did in fact end up dancing with someone tonight.

“Let’s go!” she called smiling at your nervous expression. You were clearly a reserved person when she met you, and it seemed Valeria had made it her personal mission to change that entirely.

You gripped her hand as she dragged you through the entrance and towards the bar. She shouted hello to a few people there who called back and you suddenly longed to melt into the floor. Their eyes glanced to you and it seemed that you wore the sign of _I’m not from here_ wherever you went. You tried to ignore them and instead focused on Valeria who had dragged you to the bar where she ordered drinks in rapid fire Spanish.

After one year you’d learned the language, but with how fast she spoke it you were barely able to grasp onto the word’s vodka and double. Minutes later a glass of clear liquid was placed in front of you. Valeria downed hers in seconds raising an eyebrow at you when you only sipped at yours. So, you swallowed your nerves and downed the shot of vodka seeing a smile form on her bright pink lips, as your throat burned.

“I’ll be right back.” You thought you heard her say, but you couldn’t be sure over the noise of the club and instead of following you sat at the bar watching her leave to the back.

Your guess was she was meeting up with Oscar, which meant you wouldn’t see her for another three hours. Resigning yourself to lonely drinking you ordered another vodka in the best Spanish you could manage and watched as people danced with each other. They moved as fluidly as the beat and you wished you had the courage to do that; to ask a man to the floor without any whims or worry of repercussions.

Another order of a shot of vodka and another sweep of the bar and Valeria still hadn’t come back. You were beginning to wonder if she’d gotten lost, or if Oscar had taken her to have his way with her finally. They’d been dancing around each other for a month now. You didn’t really mind drinking alone. No one came up to you, although you did attract the eyes of a few men here and there, but still you remained alone. Sighing you turned back to the clear liquid and sipped some more.

It was by your third order of vodka that you felt the buzz streaking its way through your body. The temptation to dance was beginning to overwhelm you and without thinking you downed the last of the deadly clear liquid and stood surprisingly well in your heels. The beat of the slow cumbia song echoed around you and you closed your eyes wanting to focus on that and that alone. There would be no worries of people watching you, no nervousness, as that had all but vanished the second you downed your first shot. Instead, you began to move trying to mimic what you’d seen the others do.

A step there, swing of the hips here and you were moving to the music; lost in the feel of it. This was probably the greatest high you had since moving to Colombia. You did whatever you could to keep it, moving your hands against the dress you wore, imagining they were someone else’s. Whether or not people were watching you didn’t give a shit. This was your stress relief after a year of putting yourself through hell just to get a paycheck.

Unbeknownst to you someone’s eyes did watch you. They burned into your skin just as he burned through his cigarette, the smoke filling the air around him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had caught his attention this way and that was saying something. He was known for what he did. Fucking women to gain relief and moving onto the next. No one expected him to be anything more and he was grateful for that, but he couldn’t deny the tug he felt at that empty stone he called a heart.

He was already on his third glass of whiskey, having smoked through four cigarettes by the time he got there. A night to destress is what he needed and he was ready to call up one of the informants he was regularly seeing, but that thought was shoved out of his mind as he saw you. He continued to watch you, eyes growing darker with every movement of your hips. It was as if you were tempting everyone there, calling to them but also telling them to stay back, because you didn’t want them. He couldn’t tell if he should get up and join you or just watch as you set your spell on the entirety of the club.

The second he noticed another man watching you, the predatory look in the man’s eyes something that would have him reaching for his gun is when he put out his cigarette and downed the last bit of his whiskey. He wasn’t much for dancing, but fuck he’d dance with you if you wanted him to. Just to piss the man off he made eye contact with him as he headed in your direction, watching you move as if you were the only person there.

He didn’t want to scare you, but you’d been too involved in the music that you didn’t hear him come up behind you. Instinctively you shot your elbow out in their direction the second hands met your hips, but he caught your arm before it could slam against his nose.

“Calmate cariño,” he said softly, trying to keep you from hitting him again.

You would be ashamed to admit that at the first sound of his voice you could feel heat rush through you. “What are you doing?” you asked.

His hands settled tentatively on your waist again and you let them. “I wanted to dance with you. Didn’t expect to nearly get my nose broken.” He said it lowly in your ear so you could hear him over the music, but you couldn’t help the small shudder it sent down your spine.

“Sorry,” you responded trying not to sound out of breath, but the vodka and the dancing was making you sweat.

He became bolder with his movements, sliding his hands up your waist and back down to your hips. “Don’t apologize cariño. Your instinct is good.” It sounded like he was talking about something else entirely but you were too far gone, lost in how his hands felt on your body to respond.

A new cumbia song started up that several others seemed to know and you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to dance with a complete stranger. Only the inhibitions from a few hours ago had flown out of your body and they seemed to get farther away the longer his hands remained on your hips. Having a man touch you after a year of nothing felt different, but perhaps it was this particular man touching you that caused it.

“Will you let me dance with you?” he asked, his grip tightening but then loosening once more. You weren’t sure what you were saying yes to, because he seemed to be asking you multiple questions in one, but you wanted it. Fuck you wanted him and you hadn’t even seen his face yet.

“Yes,” you all but sighed melting into his touch.

He pulled you back to him until his chest hit your back and his nose brushed against the shell of your ear. This time it was no longer you figuring out the steps on your own, it was him pulling you through it. Guiding you until you were moving as fluidly as the others around you. Your hips pressed flush against his and without thinking you reached up behind you, digging your hands through his hair which pulled a throaty groan from him and had you pushing back against him even harder.

An innocent dance was all it was supposed to be, but there he was grinding himself into your ass as he pressed open mouthed kisses along your neck. Yet you didn’t care about innocence; not when he made you feel as though he lit a flame in your body after so long being dormant. The adrenaline rushed through you and the realization that you wanted him to go home with you became clear to you. Pushing yourself against him once more you turned in his hold.

Brown eyes that were aflame with lust met yours. He was handsome and a flicker of familiarity sparked in your mind, but was doused out the second his hand slid from your hip to your ass. That seemed to be the only thing you could think of as you let your gaze roam over his face and figure. He wore a white button-down shirt that was open halfway and a black leather jacket that covered it. Of all the men in the club you seemed to get the handsomest one there, but you didn’t have time to mentally celebrate because your eyes zeroed in on the way his tongue peeked out to run over his bottom lip.

You wanted to bite his bottom lip. Later on, you’d blame the high from the alcohol or perhaps it was the high from him, but you held no fears in that moment. And so, you stepped closer, brought your hand back to his dark hair and pressed your lips against his. He didn’t expect you to make the first move, but he wasn’t complaining. Another rush of adrenaline or maybe even power filled you at the sound of his broken moan when you took his bottom lip in between your teeth, pulling at it when you broke away from him.

“Careful cariño or I might think you actually want me,” he said sounding out of breath.

A smile played on your lips as you dragged your lips against his but never fully kissing him. “And if I do?”

Your words went straight down his body to his crotch and he felt his jeans grow tighter the longer your lips remained just out of reach. He had to hand it to you. When it came to flirting and driving a man crazy, you were an artist at it. If you really wished it you could bring him to his knees and he was tempted to do just that right in the center of the club. Kneel down in front of you and beg you to take him home, entice you in any way he possibly could. If he was lucky, you’d let him get a taste of you, allow him to bury himself between your thighs as he drank all you had to offer.

"Your place or mine?” he asked suddenly full of urgency as the image of you laying sprawled out on his bed beckoning to him flashed through his mind.

You’d given him the answer of your place and that was all it took before he was gripping your hand in his and leading you to his car. The drive to your small apartment remained relatively quiet the sounds of the now empty city echoing around you. It gave you time to clear your thoughts and regain your bearings. You weren’t drunk that much you knew, just slightly buzzed. Just to be sure you recited your social security number in your head, getting every number correct as well as the placement of where exactly the card was. A safety you came up with when you in college to prove to yourself you were sober.

This was actually happening. You were taking home a man and just as you thought it was a bad idea; just as you were about to practically leap out of his car as it still moved, his hand settled on your bare thigh. The warmth of it sent heat through your body and your eyes dropped down to watch as he rubbed small circles with his thumb into your skin. Almost as if he was saying _it’s okay to be nervous, because I am too_. You soaked into the comfort he offered you, but a small part of you wished he’d move his hand up higher. Slide his hand up until he could see how much he affected you.

“Here,” you said softly pointing to the run-down building. When you moved it the only appeal it had was that it was a block away from the school you taught at, and one year later that seemed to still be the only appeal.

He pulled onto the side of the road before getting out to get your door giving you only seconds to calm your nerves. The woman in the bar who acted before she thought seemed to be gone and now all that was left was you in a dress that made you feel exposed. Once again you thought of high tailing it to your door and locking him out, but you noticed the way his eyes remained on your figure as he helped you out. He wanted you as much as you wanted him and seemed to make that clear.

Leading him up the steps until you reached your door, you pulled the key out nearly dropping it on the ground when he placed an open-mouthed kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder. Finally, after missing the lock you got the key in and the door swung open for you. The interior of your apartment was tiny, nothing too exciting to look at; you saw the way his eyes roamed the area, almost as if he was checking for threats. While you stood in the center fiddling with your hands, waiting for him to do something, say something.

“I like it,” he said after minutes of silence.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and smiled. “Thanks. I’m shit at decorating, but I tried.”

The conversation died there leaving you to stand feet away from each other as you tried to come up with something to say. He was about to ask if you were sure about this when he saw the way your eyes drank him in, going over every feature of him you could see. He was captivating, standing there and looking like he belonged right away. You wondered if that was just the way he was, or if that was something he had to work on. He was confident, but he didn’t hold the confidence that made him egotistical.

Was it a bad idea to invite him in? To have what you concluded would be a one-night stand? Probably. It was most likely the worst idea you’d made since moving here a year ago. And you’d most likely end up with consequences, but you just couldn’t find it in you to fucking care. After debating for as long as you had, you’d come up with one answer. You wanted him in every way you could possibly have him by the time the sun came up.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, dropping your bag to the ground and taking strides towards him.

He was way ahead of you already rushing forward and pulling you by your waist, his lips firmly planted on yours. You had never met someone who could kiss the way that he did and it drove you insane at how he was able to make you want more. Sinking your hands into his hair once more, you let out a moan as his tongue slipped into your mouth and his hands traveled down to your ass. He walked forward leading you through your apartment until your back hit a wall and you were trapped.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked pulling back to let you breathe.

Only you didn’t want him to pull back, you wanted him to sink further into you, bury his hand between your thighs or himself. You didn’t care, you just wanted him. Except now he was being serious, the flirty gaze gone from his eyes. He wanted to know you were sober enough to do this rather than it being a drunken one-night stand. If that was the case you knew he’d leave, because he wasn’t even buzzed.

“I want this,” you said softly.

You beckoned him closer, placing his hands back on your waist and lightly pressing your lips to his. This time it was you guiding him through it, showing him that you weren’t incoherent and that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. He seemed to grasp the idea and began to kiss you again as if he’d never get to, the rough press of his lips forcing you to rub your thighs together for friction.

Funny how the high the vodka from earlier gave you felt the exact same as the arousal you felt with him pressing you into the wall. His hand slipped from your hip as he pushed one of his thighs in between your legs forcing you widen your stance. You let out a moan that he swallowed as his hand pushed underneath the elastic of your underwear and towards the growing wetness caused by none other than him.

“Fuck you’re so wet cariño,” he growled out before pushing his fingers further until they were at your entrance gathering your slick and bringing it up to your clit.

Allowing yourself to get lost in the sensation that was him you didn’t bother thinking about how you didn’t know his name, that you didn’t know where he came from. He could be a fucking Sicario for all you knew. All you could focus on was the way he circled your clit with the pads of his fingers causing your legs to turn to jelly with every ministration.

He sunk two fingers into you, making your mouth open in a silent moan as he searched for the spot that would ruin you. You tried to take in as much breath as possible, desperately needing to breathe, but it seemed he was adamant on stealing it from you. You gave into whatever he wanted, another sound tearing from you when he found the place he was searching for. Javier watched your eyes flutter shut as your hips bucked up grinding down on his fingers. He was in awe at how wrecked you looked already on the verge of your first orgasm of the night.

You had looked familiar in the bar, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen you before. Maybe you were someone he’d slept with before. Or maybe you were a figment of his imagination come to life for one night; the job finally getting to him. He pressed his thumb against your clit feeling your body tense underneath him and he knew he’d found it; the pace that would drive you off the cliff faster than you could scream the name you didn’t know. Brushing his lips against yours he pulled you into a punishing kiss, his fingers thrusting into you at a faster pace, making sure to strike your g-spot every time.

“A fucking dream,” he whispered more to himself. You were too lost in the throes of pleasure to hear him anyways. “Getting off to my fingers. Are you going to cum for me cariño?” he asked.

"Yes.” It was a whimper at best and yet you still grinded down on his hand, begging with him to give you the last little shove off the cliff.

Javier gripped the back of your neck, angling your head so he could press his lips against yours in a rougher manner, licking into your mouth and sucking on your bottom lip. “Then cum for me,” he growled and that was all it took.

You were flung off the edge, letting out a cry into his mouth as your release sent a white-hot feeling of ecstasy rushing through your body. He watched it all enjoying the sight of your lipstick painted lips, now a mess, forming the shape of a silent scream. His lips parted as his tongue came out to brush against his bottom lip; his fingers still driving you insane, pulling the last of your orgasm out of you. It wasn’t until you gripped his wrist and pulled his hand away that he caught the idea you needed a minute.

“Fuck,” you panted out. “If that’s what you can do with just your fingers, then I want to know what else you can do.” The words came from you before you could stop them and you saw the flash of his eyes growing darker before he was slipping his hand from your underwear and shoving the fingers in his mouth.

A moan rumbled in his chest at the taste of you, locking eyes with you as he ate your come off his fingers. Your eyes were wide, watching the view in front of you and wanting more. He was an addiction that you already longed for. The drug that gave you a high you had been looking for after so long and you knew that the second, he’d placed his lips on yours, you were truly and utterly fucked.

“Come here,” you whispered, pulling at the collar of his jacket.

He listened obediently, because he was trapped by the look in your eyes. The innocence still standing strong, but another emotion raging like a fire behind it. You were offering him all of you and he’d happily take it, sample every piece until he had his fill. Except the thought never occurred to him that he may never get his fill of you; may never find the end of his addiction.

You pushed the jacket off his shoulders before walking back towards your bedroom, the idea of having him entirely too delicious to resist. His hands found purchase on your hips again, yanking you towards him with a grunt and a crooked smile. You soon came to realize he was all charm with someone he wanted, but you suspected there was another side to him. A darker side that he didn’t show to women he met for a one-night stand. A part of you wanted to know his darker side, but you held yourself back from asking already knowing the answer to your question.

_Don’t make this more than it is_.

The bitterness of the words hit your tongue and you hadn’t even said them out loud yet. Asking about who he was would make this more than just sex, more than just a simple release to get rid of the stress. Knowing about him would make you want to know more and you didn’t want that. You were happy with whatever this was. A one-night stand.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said against his lips, his mustache tickling your upper lip.

He groaned before pulling the dress up and off your body, happy to see you wore nothing but underwear that was barely anything. He’d met women who wanted nothing but a fuck before, but you were different for some reason and he was going to go insane with trying to figure out why. You gripped onto his hair keeping his lips against yours as you lowered yourself onto the bed. He helped pull your underwear down your legs, tossing them somewhere as you spread yourself for him. Only when you were situated did you let go to watch as he pulled off his shirt, his tan skin being revealed more and more.

“Beautiful,” you said, trailing your eyes over him.

Javier froze at the sight of you leaning up on your elbows, body spread out just for him and heels still strapped to your feet. He didn’t think he’d ever heard someone call him that before, the word foreign to him except for when he was saying it himself. His thoughts flashed back to a memory he couldn’t grasp of a woman, but it was gone the second your hand slid down to the sparse curls on your pussy.

His jeans were torn off him, shoes kicked off as he watched you pleasure yourself in front of him, your fingers circling your clit. Now he was sure he was dreaming, but he didn’t want it to end. Gripping your wrist, he pulled your hand away from yourself before slipping your fingers into his mouth. He couldn’t get enough of your taste, wanting to do what he thought about at the club, but your hand cupped his chin and brought him up to you. You wanted him, his cock standing proudly against his stomach, the tip weeping for any kind of attention.

“I want to make you cum on my tongue cariño,” he said through kisses.

Wrapping your hand around his length you pumped him three times hearing his moan echo in the room, his forehead resting against yours. He stopped you before you finished him off right away, bringing your hand back to his lips.

“Just fuck me, please.” You weren’t above begging him, the hunger in your body having returned in full force.

He hooked your leg around his hip before sliding into you slowly stopping every inch to let you adjust to him. You hadn’t had sex in a year and it was as if you were being broken open again for the first time. Slight tears gathered in your eyes at the pinch of pain, but you pushed it aside knowing that the pleasure from earlier would return.

Gripping your hip, he dipped his head down to take your nipple into his mouth, scraping his teeth against it. You felt like heaven around him, your walls clenching around his cock with every small thrust he gave you. He had to grit his teeth when his hips finally met flush against yours, not wanting to combust before he even started. The sounds that fell from your lips spurred him on, making him buck into you once before he began his pace.

“Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?” His teeth nipped at any piece of skin he could reach, hips slapping against yours as his pace picked up.

“Please!” you wailed out, nails digging into his back.

A choked groan came from you, his thrusts speeding up until he was slamming into you hard enough for you to see stars. You were going to hurt tomorrow you knew that much for sure, but you didn’t care. The pain of soreness would be all worth it in the end because it came from him, it would remind you he was real. A cry left your lips when his hand slipping from your hip to your clit, pinching it as he continued to hammer into you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. So pretty taking my cock like it was made for you.” He was babbling out nonsense at this point, too drunk on the feel of your pussy clenched around him. Fuck he’d gone fully pussy dumb the second his fingers slipped into you and you cried out for him.

You were on the verge again, feeling yourself start to bear down on him and all it took was him pinching your clit again, his cock hitting against your g-spot for you to break. You think you screamed, but you couldn’t be sure because the rush of overwhelming intense pleasure made you deaf for a few moments, everything sounding underwater. He let out a sound that you could make out as a growl before his pace sped up to a brutal one; his balls slapping against your ass as he drove into you chasing his own release. He dug his teeth into your shoulder, crying out at the feel of your walls clenching around him tightly before releasing into you, his cum coating your walls.

The air was knocked out of you as he collapsed onto your body, his head resting against your chest as he tried to catch his breath. Your release had left a tingly sensation in your legs and toes and you couldn’t remember the last time you were this satisfied. Getting off to your own fingers wasn’t enough and he had just proved why.

“I can’t breathe,” you laughed out pushing at his shoulders.

He slipped his softening cock out of you, feeling the mix of your come trail out of you. “Sorry,” he grunted out landing on the empty side of the bed to your right.

The silence was content between the two of you, the smell of sex pungent in the air from what just happened. Javier watched your breasts rise and fall with every breath you took, still in a daze from the orgasm that was ripped from him. But soon he was shaking himself out of it and reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket.

“Do you mind?” he asked.

“Go for it.”

The smoke hit your nose, but you were used to it by now, having had your fair share in the last year. The heat of Colombia was slowly seeping into your room, but you couldn’t move, too comfortable in it’s embrace. Instead, you let yourself sink into your bed the weariness of the activities shared between the two of you making your eyes shut.

You didn’t hear him leave, or feel the kiss he pressed to your forehead.

\------

The sunlight woke you up as well as the soreness in the lower half of your body. You felt as though you’d run around Bogota chasing Sicarios for hours on end when in fact you had just had the best sex since moving to Colombia. Stretching out your arms you weren’t surprised to feel the bed next to your empty and cold. He must have slipped out in the middle of the night, but for once you didn’t mind. You had gotten what you wanted and so did he, so there was no reason to feel bad about being left alone.

Getting to your feet you realized you were bare and walked over to the bathroom to shower. Thankfully it was still the weekend which meant one more day of freedom before going back to the trials of teaching. Maybe you could focus on the papers you brought home. They had to be graded one way or another.

Thoughts of him clung to you as you showered, your hands feeling the tender parts of your skin that he’d gripped. When you had thought about feeling him the next day you didn’t think you’d actually feel him, and you were happy for some reason. It was like a memory placed on your skin; a reminder that you’d finally let go for once in your life.

You hadn’t gotten his name. That thought didn’t occur to you until you were sipping coffee in your kitchen already going through your first stack of papers. He could be anyone and you guessed that he was probably a Sicario, working for the most dangerous man in Colombia. It was definitely better that you not know who he was. But part of you wanted to know at least his name, maybe something to remember him by other than the soreness that would fade.

Sighing you shook your head and made your way back to your room. This was definitely not the best time to become infatuated with a man. Not when you were planning on leaving soon; not when you hated the thought of heartbreak again. The scent of cigarettes still hung in the air when you entered piercing through you as you thought about him again.

“Stop it,” you said under your breath. “You’re being a lovesick idiot over a guy you don’t even know. One you probably will never see again…” you trailed off catching the sight of something on your nightstand.

A half empty pack of cigarettes sat there with a small piece of paper on them. Picking them up you knew they were his having watched him pull them from his jacket before he offered you one. He’d left them here, not on accident it seems as you read the paper where he had scribbled a note in messy handwriting.

_For next time cariño._

_-Javier Peña_

He had also left a number underneath and you could feel your heart swell at the thought. He hadn’t wanted this to be a one-night thing after all. Except you could feel the doubts from earlier seep back into your mind, the thoughts of leaving all coming back to you. He wanted to see you again, but what for? Sex? A release of stress from whatever he did? Or did he want to know you.

Putting the cigarettes and note back where you found them, you brushed off the thought of seeing him again. It might have been cruel except you couldn’t bother enough to care. Your life didn’t need a man coming in and ruining all that you built up. You didn’t need him ruining you. Not after you had just put yourself back together.

Instead, you opened the window to get rid of the smell of him and opted for changing the sheets. You were adamant that you wouldn’t see him again, not if you didn’t call. He would see that it wasn’t meant for more than just a night of lust and passion; of fucking one another until you couldn’t think of anything else, and leave you alone.

Only the one question still remained in your mind as you put yourself to work. Did you really want him to leave you alone, or were you already addicted to whoever Javier Peña was?


	3. Glotonería

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks had gone by since you’d last seen him, but he still hadn’t left your mind. While you figured you were the only one who tried to resist the temptation, you would be proven wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As we all know I'm a chaotic fuck. If you don't well you do now. So trying to navigate this place is like trying to get out of the labyrinth. Anyways enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: Explicit, angst, sexual tension yo, fingering, cum eating/play (because why the fuck not).

Letting out a groan you could feel the second to last string snap, nearly resulting in you losing your temper. The papers were scattered onto the floor in front of you after you just organized them into piles for an hour. This was definitely not your day and you were ready to call it quits. Thoughts of what you could blame your temper on ran through your head, but you also knew that there was only one reason. And you just so happened to hold the answer to it in your pocket.

The man who had left your room that night still remained on your mind. He seemed to wedge himself into everything you were thinking of and no matter how many times you shoved him away he returned. An endless loop of yearning that you held for him. It drove you mad, ready to just give in and dial the number, but at the same time you held off. Your claim of not needing someone now still stood true.

“It’s not my fucking day,” you muttered as you crouched to gather them.

They were stowed away in your bag for safe keeping, but also because you didn’t trust them to not fall out of your arms again. The walk to your apartment remained quiet, still and calm which was usually the opposite for the city that was filled with noise of gunshots every few minutes. You were grateful for the small moment of peace, giving into it and relaxing your nerves from earlier. Yet once again things weren’t in your favor.

A car you recognized immediately was parked across the street and you froze mid-step. Should you keep going or turn back where you came from? Thinking fast seemed to be your only option and you went with your impulse even if it came to you late. Except there was no escaping this situation, no matter how much you wanted to. Someone leaned on the opposite side of the car, smoke trailing from his mouth, his lips downturned into a slight frown.

After two weeks of no contact, he’d finally decided to own up and come see you. This is the exact opposite of what you wanted from him. He gave you the cigarettes and the number as an option. Whether you bothered to talk to him or not was all up to you, but then why was he standing there waiting for you?

Javier never showed up at women’s doors wanting to see them again. He just didn’t do it, and many of the women he spent time with knew that for a fact. But he somehow found himself driving here, parking his car, and pulling out his pack of cigarettes. Was he that hooked on you after one night that he willingly went of his way to see you? He sadly had to say the answer might be yes. He’d never admit it to anyone and if someone were to bring it up, he’d deny it to his grave.

His head turned at the sound of footsteps, an instinct that developed in his years with the DEA. He expected some passerby, but then his gaze landed on you standing there in a sundress, looking ready to bolt. Javier hated the way that his heart seemed to jump in his chest at the sight of you, and he jolted himself out of it. Feelings were a mess of emotions that he didn’t need nor want. And yet he still hadn’t stopped himself from getting into his car, from driving there to what? Check on you?

Why the fuck _was_ he there again? He couldn’t remember, let alone come up with an explanation to tell you. He wondered if you’d seen him, but then he saw the way you were watching him, your eyes shifting from him to your door. You were getting ready to run and he didn’t blame you one bit. It was rash of him to show up when he’d clearly given you contact information, but a gut feeling told him to show.

He didn’t move from where he stood, continuing to smoke his cigarette, his eyes fixed on you through the yellow of his sunglasses. You however were on the edge. Of what, you weren’t exactly sure, but one way or another it would lead you to lose your temper. That you _were_ sure of. Taking in a breath, you ignored the way he stood straighter, tossing the half-finished cigarette to the ground and grinding it underneath his shoe.

If he wanted to talk to you, he would make the first move.

You heard the fall of his footsteps as he followed you to your apartment and you couldn’t help but compare it to last time. Only this time it would end with him leaving, finally knowing that you didn’t want anything more. He seemed like a reasonable man. Which means he would understand. But would you? Would you understand why you were so adamant on not getting to know him? Sure, you were leaving, but the temptation of him felt too great.

How many times had you found yourself holding the phone in one hand and the paper in the other? Probably just as many times as you picked up the pack of cigarettes intent on throwing them out before setting them back on your nightstand. You should not be so vulnerable so soon; so, addicted to someone after just one time. That’s not how things worked.

Things seemed to have changed.

He didn’t say anything behind you, but you could feel him there; the warmth of him hitting your back. You were just thankful that no one else was out and about on the staircase or else you’d have to explain why a man stood behind you. Although part of you knew Miguel wouldn’t mind it. Every time you went over for dinner with him and his wife, they hinted at finding you a nice man to settle down with. They were insistent upon it and while you humored them, went on a blind date once they set up, you found yourself always longing to be alone instead.

Of course, other times you’d laugh it off claiming you were leaving and that was still true. So, what the fuck were you doing there now slotting your key into the lock with the same man from two weeks ago behind you? You didn’t have the answer to that question. Nor did you want one. The logic of it would only confuse you even more, pushing you further back into the hole you’d thrown yourself into.

“Drink?” you asked entering your apartment.

Javier was surprised you actually let him in, expecting you to slap him across the face and leave him standing there. The place hadn’t changed since he was last there, but he did notice the pack of his cigarettes he’d left behind on the coffee table. Maybe you were thinking about him as much as he was thinking about you. He smiled slightly at that thought.

“No thank you,” he responded.

An odd silence fell over the two of you, neither of you knowing who should speak first. You assumed he wanted to do the talking, but he was the opposite. He never wanted to talk to begin with and little did he know you were the same exact way. Saying more than was necessary had never been your forte. It ended up with you standing in your kitchen, back against the counter and him standing awkwardly fiddling with his hands.

“Why did you come?” You were the first to break the ice, because you couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

His eyes met yours and you were suddenly reminded of how beautiful they were. “I don’t know.”

Nodding your head, you set the glass of water down on the counter next to you. How the hell were you supposed to respond to I don’t know? Another wave of silence washed over the both of you and you chose to fix him with your stare instead. Maybe you could find the answer by just reading it off him, but he was just as hard to read as before. The silence felt tense, overwhelming you. If he really wanted to talk, he would have done it by now and you sighed getting ready to find something to eat.

He could see you give up, resigning yourself to no answer and calling it a day and he felt himself grow tense. You wanted answers just as he did, so why the fuck was it so hard for him to open his mouth? He didn’t usually have problems saying what he wanted when it came to women, but the small reminder that this involved more than that kept him silent.

_Emotions_. That’s what he wanted to avoid more than anything and it seemed that it was unavoidable here. It’s why he stayed silent, why his mouth wouldn’t open. He didn’t feel fear given his job, but now he could feel it curling at the base of his spine. Taunting him with the possibility that he would be too afraid to say what he wanted this time.

“Why didn’t you call?” he asked, cursing himself at letting it blurt out. “Not that you had to.”

Your head lifted to see him and you were able to see it, the small crack in his armor. “I didn’t feel like I had to. We did what we had to do and called it a night.”

That stung he had to admit. You were using his own words against him and you’d never even heard them come from his mouth. He nearly laughed at this whole situation, because even he had to admit it was ridiculous.

“Is that all?” you asked. Were you being harsh? Yes, absolutely, but you had to be harsh. Emotions, relationships, they were messy business and you’d been there. You’d done that and felt the repercussions of giving your heart to someone; knew personally the pain that came with the realization that they didn’t love you back as much as you thought they did.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead and turning away from you, feeling the hilarity of the situation wash over him. He would leave, never think of you again, because that’s what you both wanted right. You wanted him away from you. Which is why you didn’t call him, which is why you didn’t bother with any of it. Except then his eyes landed on the half empty pack of cigarettes again, _his_ cigarettes.

“You kept them, why?” he asked.

_Shit_. You knew you should have thrown them out, but that meant you were physically throwing out the chance of him. The words of not wanting this would spill out faster than the truth, because you had rehearsed saying them. To anyone who asked, you gave them the same answer. Yet now just as you saw the crack in his armor, he saw the break in yours. The sentiment of a pack of cigarettes is what would undo everything you’d worked so hard to build.

“I don’t know.” Your turn for a vague answer, but he deserved it.

Javier huffed out a laugh meeting your gaze again. “I don’t usually do this.”

“Show up to women’s apartments after one fuck?” You couldn’t hide the smile that played on your lips. “Shocking.”

“No, I don’t.” He felt the tension ease off his shoulders at your tease. “I got worried.”

Your heart beat faster at the admission. “What for?”

“City full of Sicarios. I don’t know if you’ve been watching the news recently, but it’s dangerous here.” He wanted to pull out another cigarette, but also didn’t want to taint your apartment with his scent. It lingered that much he knew, the smell of cigarette smoke.

“I’ve lived here for a year. I think I can handle myself,” you replied.

His eyebrows raised at that and he finally realized he didn’t know anything about you. You were just someone he’d met in a club and went home with sure, but he wondered what would happen if he did get to know you. The order of how it happened may be wrong, but maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to be friends.

"Why move here in the first place?” He watched as you headed to your couch, kicking your shoes off and gesturing for him to join you.

“I wanted change from everything I had back home.” You followed the way he shrugged out of his jacket, remembering the way you dug your nails into his shoulders. However, you shoved that thought away.

“So, you move to Bogota?”

You let out a laugh. “I know it sounds ridiculous coming from another person. Trust me I didn’t see myself living here and I certainly didn’t plan on staying this long, but I don’t know things changed.”

“Things changed?” Javier didn’t want you to tell him your whole life story if you weren’t up for it. He just couldn’t push this feeling that he should know you out of his mind. Maybe it was the reason as to why he showed up in the first place.

Letting out a sigh you met his eyes. “I suppose I changed. Grew to like it here and yes it may be a bad city, but I still feel like it understands me more than back home.”

He definitely knew how that felt. He’d made a mess at home when he left, but then he came here and he was able to be something else, someone else. He nearly smiled at the thought that out of all places he’d find his kindred spirit in Bogota after fucking her to a point _he_ couldn’t even stop thinking about it. In a way it was ironic. Yet it also made the most sense he’d heard in years.

You smiled at him seeing the understanding in his eyes and knew that you were exactly on the same page as he was. You’d wondered if someone here would know the feeling, know what it felt like to escape, to try and find a way out of the mess you’d made. And there he sat in front of you giving you the same look of pain you’d seen in the mirror every day.

“You ran, too didn’t you?” you asked, softly.

He seemed startled by the question. “Yeah, I ran.” He didn’t run, he bolted away from his home town all the way to here. He told himself it was to help change things, but now the longer he continued to tell himself that, he wasn’t so sure it remained the truth.

Another moment of silence. Except this time, you were both stuck in your own thoughts, in the memories of the past you wished to leave behind. You found that sitting with him in silence when words didn’t need to be said was just as natural as speaking to him. And maybe he did have a bad past, maybe he wasn’t a good person. You’d have no way of knowing, because you didn’t know him after all and the real question of did you want to know him still came to the forefront of your mind. Asking it to yourself again you found the answer to be the same as before; an answer you didn’t want to have at first, but found appealing now.

“I wanted to call you.” An admission is all you were giving him and hoping that it went somewhere.

“Why didn’t you?”

His damn brown eyes are what made you melt. How he did it, how he made you fall under their spell so easily boggled your mind.

You picked at a spot on the couch cushion. “I don’t want a relationship and it’s not because of you, trust me. My last boyfriend was nearly my husband and I’m the one who ran, because I realized I didn’t want to…well…to be stuck in one place forever.”

Javier wanted to laugh. Not at you, at this whole situation. Did he even want a relationship? No, he didn’t. There were too many things going on with Escobar that he couldn’t handle a relationship, nor would he be good at one. He’d made that decision a long time ago and he could see that you’d made the same choice.

“I’m not here for a relationship,” he blurted out. He winced at his words, realizing that he just came off as a complete asshole. At any moment he expected you to kick him out of your apartment with a slap on the face.

But then you laughed.

“Here I am worrying I have to let you down easy somehow.” You continued to laugh letting all the tension ease out of your body, because even you had to admit this was funny. “Then why did you come? Was it really just because you wanted to see if I was safe?”

“I’ve seen bad things happen to beautiful women. Didn’t want you to be one of them.” He was being honest about that. Sicarios were brutal when it came to women and he’d seen horrors that would make you run for the hills.

“How do I know you’re not a-what do they call them?”

“Sicarios,” he said.

“How do I know you’re not a Sicario?”

Javier huffed out a laugh. “Trust me cariño I’m the opposite of being a Sicario.”

“Which is?”

“I think it’s best if I don’t tell you that.” He didn’t want to involve you in the other side of him; the one that chased bad people in the streets, killed, and made deals in restaurants _with_ the bad people. All for what? So, he can catch a man and end a war that’s destroyed the man he used to be.

You rolled your eyes. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Don’t be too sure.”

Part of you wanted to press him, to find out the truth, but you knew that it wouldn’t get you an answer. Besides if you held no intention of being with him then did it matter if you only knew half of him? Only knew what he’d let you see? Something said no, but you focused on the part that said yes, because that was the answer you _wanted_ to hear.

“I’m heading out to get dinner.” Javier paused gauging your reaction beforehand. “You’re welcome to join me.”

“Are you asking me on a date Javier Peña _?” you teased._

His lips tilted up in a crooked smile; one you remember seeing the first night you met him. “I thought we’re just here to be friends cariño.”

_Friends_. The word both of you were searching for amidst the silent pauses and the confessions. There would be nothing else between you, because there couldn’t be. Friends was all you would be able to give him, and he was okay with that, because it would be the same way for him.

“Friends it is Peña _.”_

“In that case.” He helped you to your feet. “My friends call me Javi.”

_\------_

“He kicked you out after you said no?” Javier asked, disbelief written on his face.

You nodded. “He claimed that he _wasted_ his time on me. Apparently, me choosing to not be his wife didn’t go over well with him. Which is why I left and came here. That and there was a teaching job for English offered.”

After three beers, one shot of tequila for the both of you and half a pack of cigarettes later, you’d practically spilled your life story to Javier Peña. He told you his as well, about his family home, his dad, about the woman he left behind because he couldn’t commit. He’d told you more about himself than he’d told to anyone and for some odd reason, he was okay with that. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol in your veins or the cigarettes, but you’d felt more relaxed than you had in an entire year. Sure, you went out with Valeria and Antonio, but they didn’t know you as well as Javier did and you’d only just started talking.

“Here I was wondering why you were alone that night in the club.” His eyes were softer than you’d seen them, the brown melting you the longer you stared into them.

“My friend Valeria, she thought it would be fun to go off and hook up with some guy she’s seeing.” You took a drag of the cigarette between your fingers, letting the smoke trail between the two of you. “Lucky you found me that night I guess.”

Was it the lights or did his eyes turn darker? You couldn’t tell, but you also weren’t able to deny how it made you shift in your seat, a rush of heat forming through your body. This was against being friends. The tension so palpable that you were sure you could touch it if you wanted to. He had to stop looking at you like that, stop making you want to have a repeat of that night, stop his little game of teasing. The way his tongue peeked out to press against his bottom lip told you he had no intention of stopping.

“Lucky indeed,” he murmured, bringing his own cigarette to his lips.

You had to change the topic, fast. Anything else to talk about to get the memories of him sinking himself into you, the sounds of his groans, of the feeling of him out your mind. Falling into bed with a man once was a mishap. A night of fun. Falling into the same bed with the same man again was personal, and a mistake you would not be making again. Leaning forward you put out your cigarette, feeling him follow your movements.

“I think I should head home. I have work tomorrow.”

It broke the moment which is exactly what you wanted. “I’ll get the bill.”

What you had hoped would break the tension only made it worse. The car a stifling small space that had you rolling the window down for air, for anything to get your mind off the thoughts that ran through your mind. He didn’t bother hiding how much he wanted you, his legs spread slightly as he drove; one hand on the wheel and one near you. It was fun watching you squirm, watching you try to deny that this is what you wanted. Yet who was he to say that. He’d been denying it for two weeks, trying to get his mind off of you. Maybe it was the alcohol having a little bit of an effect on him, or the way that your bare thigh tempted him, but he found himself leaning into the tension.

The car stopped in front of your apartment just like last time, except neither of you made a move to get out. You would choke on the tension if it got any stronger and you cleared your throat trying to break it. Except it seemed to be make of reinforced steel. Javier’s eyes glanced your way, his hand not having left the steering wheel yet. He needed a fucking cigarette to get through this; the thought of taking you in his car growing by the second.

You had agreed on friends no? Agreed to just be that. So why did you feel as though you would go mad because of the way your body reacted to him. All he had to do was say _bend_ and you’d bend over backwards to his will, to get a taste of him again. It was the alcohol. Had to be. There would be no other reason you should be feeling this way, but even you knew you weren’t that drunk. You were barely even buzzed.

Coughing again you drew his attention towards you. “This was fun.”

“Yeah, it was.” His dark eyes roved over you in your summer dress pausing at your exposed skin, enjoying the sight of you shifting in your seat. “We said friends, right?”

Why was he asking? He knew the answer, because he’d been going over it in his head the entire time he sat at that damn table. Watching you smoke a cigarette and down a shot of tequila shouldn’t have been as sensual as it was, but he nearly dragged you to the bathroom. Now however, he held you in the palm of his hand and he knew it, knew that you were shifting because you were practically dripping for him. He knew it, because he felt it too.

"Yes, we said friends.” Fuck was it this hot earlier? You couldn’t remember, but you felt the need to roll the window down again. He played a game with you, of teasing, of getting you to crack and you didn’t like it, but at the same time you both knew you longed for it. That you never wanted it to end.

He nodded, his jaw shifting as he continued to watch you. “That gives me a problem then.”

“What, you can’t be friends with me Javi?” you teased him, hoping to turn the tension to a lighter note.

“No, I can be, but friends don’t think about each other the way I think of you,” he said softly, the rasp of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

_Well fuck_ , you didn’t know what to say to that. He seemingly unearthed the single thought you were trying to shove down the whole night and forced you right back to where you started. At the same time, it made you nearly soar at the realization that he felt the same way, that he couldn’t help but think of that night too. You’d say a predicament stood in your way, but really it was both of you standing in the way. Forcing the tension away because you didn’t want to focus on it, except now you were focusing on it and it sounded just as tempting as before.

You didn’t say anything to him, because really what could you say. Instead, you reached for his hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel and placed it on your thigh, hearing the shuddering breath he let out. This may be a mistake, giving into the tension, allowing it to overtake you, but you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore. You could blame the alcohol tomorrow for all you cared. Yet there would be no blaming anything but yourselves and you were somehow okay with that.

_“_ Cariño…” he breathed out. “What are you doing?” He wanted to make sure this was actually you doing this and not the liquor.

“You know what I can’t stop thinking about?” You were practically panting with just the feel of his warm hand on your thigh.

He locked eyes with you, nearly groaning at the sight of your drooped eyelids, your eyes burning into him. “What?” he asked.

Gripping his wrist, you began to slide his palm upwards, keeping your eyes on him. “How much I wanted your hand to go higher the night you drove me home.”

His eyes shut as a groan left his lips and he moved his other hand to the back of your neck. “You’re breaking my fucking heart sweetheart.”

A finger slipped underneath the lace of your underwear, his lips brushing against yours and you were already done for. His forehead pressed against yours, a curse leaving his lips at the feeling of how wet you were for him, practically dripping into his hand. He ran the finger along your slit, a small smile setting onto his lips at the sound you let out. It was addicting, watching you fall apart for him, hearing you nearly cave in on yourself all because of him. He found he craved it more than the damn cigarettes he smoked and he’d only had a taste of it once, a small hit of you and he was hooked.

“Javi,” you breathed out and that’s what did it.

His lips slotted roughly against yours, swallowing your moan when he sunk his finger into you, his thumb pressing firmly against your clit. Was it dangerous to do this in his car outside of your home? Yes, but that only added to the addiction. It only drove him further to hear what else he could drag from you. Your tongue pressed against his, hands gripping his hair as your hips unconsciously grinded down on his hand. He would make you lose your mind if he wasn’t careful.

One finger became two and even you couldn’t stop the cry that came from you. He drove you to a quick release, but maybe that’s what he wanted. You let it happen, let him drag his fingers along your walls, pressing into the spot that had sparks showing up behind your eyes. His thumb rubbed against your clit faster needing you to cum for him, needing to see you break.

“Fuck.” You were a mess of incoherent sounds, one of your hands having moved from his hair to his wrist as he continued to thrust his fingers into you.

“Come on baby, cum for me.”

Your head fell back against the seat of the car when he shifted his fingers into a come-hither motion, pressing against that sensitive spot that he already found out drove you wild. A loud cry echoed in the small space of the car, the burning pleasure streaking down your spine, as you coated his fingers in your release. He eased you through it, his thumb still pressed firmly on your clit, feeling the way you grinded down on his fingers. In such a short span of time he’d turned you into a mess, unable to discern anything except him from your haze.

He stopped his movements when your nails dug into his wrist, the overstimulation causing your legs to jerk. If it were up to him, he’d follow you inside and watch that happen all over again. He’d do whatever it took to see you fall apart like that for him once more, but thus was the life of a _friend_. Instead, he pulled his fingers out of you, hearing the small gasp you let out at the feeling of it, and began to lick them clean.

You were watching him do it and he knew it, which is why he slowed his movements down. Slipping his fingers into his mouth one by one, smirking at the sound of you letting out a small whine. If he didn’t get to have you completely tonight, he’d make you remember this; have you think of this tomorrow until he could see you again.

“Do friends do that?” he asked.

“Us as friends do that apparently.” Your laugh shoved away the prospect of awkward silence that would have normally filled the space.

He kissed you again, feeling you smile into it, his thumb rubbing against the skin of the back of your neck. “I had a good time cariño.”

“Me too Javi.”

You readjusted your clothes before pressing another chaste kiss to his lips and opening the car door. He tapped your ass on your way out smiling at your laugh and feeling calmer than he had in months. Sure, he could have found someone else to find release with, but you had a way about you that dragged him in and he was happy to remain there. He didn’t leave the spot until he saw you enter the building, making sure you were safe first.

A smile played on your lips when you heard the engine of his car fade into the night, the feeling of satisfaction washing over you. It may have been gluttonous of you to partake in this, to find your pleasure in a man who was doing the same with you. Except you didn’t bother with sticking to your own rules. You’d been broken for so long, afraid of doing anything with men because you couldn’t allow your heart to fall for another one. Yet this wasn’t falling in love, this was just you having a good time for however long it lasted.

Funny how all it took was spending more time with him to change your mind so easily.


	4. Avaricia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You had left it there, in his car, but you both still craved more. The greedy feeling of wanting each other becoming all consuming until you had no choice but to fall into one another. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is long as hell and I'm sorry but also not sorry. So enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: Explicit, oral (f receiving), fingering, cum play (as always), slight exhibitionism (if you squint to see it), cussing, mentions of violence, mentions of ptsd (on javi’s end), p in v sex, slight rough sex, Javier comes with his own warning.

The fluorescent lights of the building seemed to only add to the dreary feeling that was passed around like a joint. Javier mumbled to himself while he glared at the papers in front of him. Meaningless information that would lead them on another chase, that wouldn’t give them shit at the end of the day. The half-finished cigarette dangled between his fingers, more ash falling from just burning off than from him smoking it.

His eyes finally reached the bottom of the paper, still finding nothing that would help them on their search for Escobar. It was days like this, when he could barely see straight, and the temptation to say fuck it and walk out, made him grind his teeth. He’d been here longer than he expected and it seemed that the days only got longer, the struggles getting worse.

“Find anything?” Steve said from across the room.

Javier shook his head rather than say anything, opting to take a longer drag than necessary on the nearly burned-out cigarette. They’d been looking at the papers for hours, the lights having turned his eyesight to complete shit. How he wasn’t blind yet still managed to surprise him, but he figured it was his sheer will that did it. In reality the most likely case was his stubbornness that kept him here, that didn’t have him already leaving the country.

He could hear the flick of a lighter being turned on and looked up to see Steve begin on yet _another_ cigarette. This is all they did in this damn building. Smoke, drink, and read useless paperwork. He sighed, pulling the new file they left him to the center of his desk before flipping the front open. His cigarette almost fell out of his hand, and he put it out before he set fire to the page he read. While there were days, they found absolutely nothing, not even a scent trail of where Escobar had buried himself, there were some days they got a stroke of luck.

Days like today it seemed.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

Steve was already standing up and heading towards the desk, seeing the way Javier’s attention went from lazily reading to focusing on what was in front of him. It didn’t happen often, but some days they found something that unearthed the hole Escobar had dug himself into.

“What did they send over?” Steve asked, grabbing the paper.

“Poison’s got a friend.”

“A friend? What kind?”

“Someone new. A guy who used to have ties to the Cali cartel; said to be a drug dealer back when Escobar first started out on cocaine.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up. “How have we not heard of him yet?”

“Asshole has been going under different names for a while. Switching aliases every now and then. Remember the one they called Toro?” Javier was already lighting his fifth cigarette of that morning.

“I thought he was shot and killed.”

Javier shook his head. “I guess not. He went from being Toro to now being called Lobo.”

“He went from a bull to a wolf.” Steve snorted, tossing the file back onto the desk. “Quite a change.”

“You know Sicarios. They love their animals.” Javier shuffled through the papers trying to find a location, any other pieces of information, but they were only able to find a name. He cursed under his breath but knew that finding a name was enough for now. One way or another they would fuck up and give a chance for the DEA to pinpoint their location.

That’s how it always went down. A job based on fuck ups and pure luck.

He rubbed his forehead feeling the oncoming pain of a headache from lack of caffeine and was about to get up and grab a cup when the phone rang. The loud shrill ring only seeming to make his head ache more. With another curse under his breath, he picked it up, hoping for it to either be more information or an idiot calling.

“Peña,” he grunted out.

“Javier?”

He felt surprise shoot through his veins, his voice dying in his throat at your voice coming through the phone. His thoughts immediately turned to the worst. You were in trouble; something had happened, and he was already reaching for his gun, but stopped himself. He should at least figure out why you were calling in the first place before he showed up guns blazing at your apartment.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” Why the hell did he sound so breathless? He blamed it on the fucking cigarettes.

“Yes, everything is okay. I just...” He heard your intake of breath, the nerves clearly showing. “I wanted to see how you were. Say hi.”

He tried to stop the smile the threatened to spread on his lips by taking yet another drag. “Say hi?”

You sighed, making his lips twitch. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“Cariño you can call me to say hi.” He wondered where you were as you were making this call. “You’re a nice distraction from the paperwork.”

“Tell me about it. I’m supposed to be grading papers as we speak.”

He liked how disgruntled you sounded as you told him a small bit of what you did for work. Teaching was no easy task, that much he knew, but it was a definite difference to what he did. Your paperwork helped others learn more, his killed people and if he was lucky saved some on the way. Two different jobs, but they held their similarities in a way.

“Did you only call to say hi?” he asked.

“Not necessarily.” He heard the smile in your voice; unable to stop his from appearing. Steve raised an eyebrow in question, but Javier flipped him off in order for him to get back to what he was doing.

“So, tell me cariño. Why did you call?” He leaned back in his chair, feeling the stress of the day on his lower back already and it was barely the afternoon.

You inhaled another deep breath, catching his curiosity. “I was wondering if you’d like to join me for lunch.”

“Lunch?” He was sitting up and checking his watch, glad to see it was nearing that time. “Where?”

“It’s a short walk to my apartment. I could meet you there?”

He didn’t like the fact that you walked home. Yes, it was daylight, but shit still went down whether or not the sun was out. Either way he agreed to meet you at your apartment, already grabbing for his gun and jacket before he hung up. Steve didn’t bother saying anything when he left, probably figuring he was going to see an informant. Javier managed to slip out of the building without being stopped and let out a sigh when he got into his car. He could feel his heart racing slightly, but he again blamed the cigarettes for making his lungs suck.

It definitely wasn’t because he would be seeing you again in less than twenty-four hours.

Why would that make his heart race anyways? He brushed it off as he started the engine and began to drive.

_\-----_

Your eyes blurred the longer you stared at the papers in front of you. While being a teacher had its joys, grading papers was definitely not one of them. You’d been sitting there all morning; school having been canceled again because of a shootout two blocks away. Instead of going home and doing nothing, you figured you’d get some amount of work done while on the campus. It turned out to be a mistake rather than a good decision.

Ever since you called him your mind couldn’t focus on anything else. Lunch? You invited him to lunch? Yes, you wanted to see him again, but lunch meant being on the precipice of a maybe date and you had promised you wouldn’t go down that path. You’d have to say it was just lunch between friends when you saw him.

Shoving the papers back in their designated piles you got things ready to go before heading back to your apartment. The summer dress you were wearing seemed like a good option this morning when the heat outside nearly made you keel over. You swore you’d never been in a worse heat wave before. Which was saying a lot considering the summers back home.

Moving the piles of papers to the table along the wall, you wrapped a rubber band around the smaller stacks to keep them together. You would have to take them home after all which was what you were trying to avoid. They’d have to be graded later that night after lunch, because you certainly didn’t expect Javier to want to spend the night. Last night’s endeavors in his car had left you wanting more from him, the feel of his fingers bringing you to a fast climax haunting you all morning.

Before you were dragged back into your indulgent fantasy a knock at the door pulled you out of it. Valeria entered, a look on her face that you knew instantly. She was either going to try and set you up, or tell you a dirty story of what happened to her. It was always the latter.

“Before you tell me what Oscar can do with his tongue...”

She cut you off with a loud laugh. “Chica I’m not here to tell you that. Even though he is _incredible_. Especially when he twirls it around.”

“Gross.”

“I’m here because a man showed up looking for you.”

Your head shot up from where you were counting papers. “What?”

She nodded. “I just wanted to make sure you actually knew him. Although I’ve got to admit he’s hot.”

“Who is it?”

Your question seemed to be answered when another knock on the door echoed, ceasing conversation between you and Valeria instantly. The breath left your lungs at the sight of Javier standing there, sunglasses hanging off his half open shirt and a sheepish smile on his lips. You could have sworn you’d said to meet at your apartment, but at this point you didn’t care. He was standing in front of you a few feet away and just like last night another wave of tension crackled in the air between you.

Valeria’s eyes shot to you, the question of _who the fuck is this_ , definitely clear.

“Javier,” you breathed out. If anything, Valeria’s stare grew to accommodate her new question of _how the fuck do you know him_. She was practically screaming it at you, but you did your best to ignore it.

Javier smiled this time; a real genuine smile that had your stomach flipping with nerves. When he came to pick you up, trying his hardest to ignore the pull he had towards you, as he shoved those thoughts away only for them to find their way past the block he’d put up. How could he ignore the pull when you looked the way you did in front of him? It was damn near impossible.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, finally getting out of your daze.

“Stopped by to say hi, and pick you up for lunch.”

“Right... lunch.”

Valeria looked ready to drag you out of the room to get the information, but you sent a quick glare in her direction that said you’d tell her later.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Valeria said. She’d caught the hint and would definitely be asking you all about this Javier later.

You didn’t say anything else until the classroom door had closed, leaving you alone with the man who you couldn’t stop thinking about. What now? You needed the walk to your apartment to come up with conversation topics, but now you had to work off the top of your head. What the hell should you talk about? The shooting that happened earlier? No, that was definitely too gruesome of a topic to bring up right now.

Just as you got ready to say something, he stepped towards you. There was a look in his eyes, the same one you recognized from that night, and it surprised you how you weren’t upset by it. The heat curled low in your stomach with every step he took towards you, but you could see it. He waited for you to take your own step, to tell him in a way that this is what you wanted as well.

Taking a breath, you took the step, already reaching out for him and he came without question. His lips slotting against yours, hands finding your hips and pulling you to him. The kiss wasn’t slow, because they never were, the thrill of passion, of having each other too great for it to be slow. Your hands gripped his hair when his tongue met yours, a moan echoing around the empty room. The plans of lunch were thrown out the window, when his tongue licked into your mouth, exploring every part he could get to.

He walked you back until the back of your legs met your desk; his hands sliding from your hips to grip at your ass, pulling you even closer to him.

“Javier,” you panted out when his lips began their descent down your neck.

He smiled against your skin, bringing his head up to meet your eyes. “I thought I told you all my friends call me Javi cariño.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing. “Okay then _Javi_.” Reaching your hand down, you cupped him through his jeans. “Lunch?”

The words he was going to say died in his throat when he saw the look on your face. He couldn’t fathom the way you continued to surprise him with your actions. You were outgoing and willing to have him here in the middle of your classroom. And while he would jump right in, give you all of him, make you scream his name until tears ran down your face, he wanted to make sure this is exactly what you wanted.

That he was what you wanted.

He pulled your hand up and brought it to his lips. “Just say the word and I’m gone okay?”

“What?” Did he not want this after all? No, you were sure of it. Especially with what happened after last night, but then again, his mind could have changed within the few hours you spent apart.

“Tell me if you want to stop and I’ll disappear. You won’t have to see me again.”

Why did it sound like _he_ was the one talking himself out of this? Maybe it was because he didn’t want to see you get hurt. He didn’t want to have the guilt of breaking yet another woman’s heart on his hands. But no matter how much he tried to talk himself out of it; to prove to himself that he wasn’t what you wanted and vice versa, he knew at the same time, he was blatantly lying to himself. Something he did often to keep from going batshit insane except now it began to bleed into the other parts of himself.

Your eyebrows furrowed the longer you thought about what he said. Did he actually want this?

“Javi.” He raised his head to look you in the eye. “Are you sure _you_ want to do this?”

There he stood telling himself you weren’t interested, when in reality you would have climbed onto the desk five minutes ago if he asked you to. You weren’t sure what it was about him that completely drove you to the edge of recklessness. That made you realize the life you had now was a mundane comparison to the life he must have. It could have been that, or it could have been the way his brown eyes held you captive. Looking into you, reading you, and you were terrified he wouldn’t like what he saw. Yet you didn’t know he felt the same.

In response to your question, he tugged you forward again, placing his lips on yours in a kiss that had your toes curling. His tongue slowly exploring your mouth again, his teeth pulling at your bottom lip when he pulled away. He wanted to leave you gasping for air, but still willing to kiss him for as long as you were able to. And that’s exactly what happened. You leaned forward when he pulled away, searching for his lips again, and curling your fingers into his hair to pull them to you.

“I’m willing to get on my knees for you Javi,” you said against his lips.

His hands gripped you harder, a groan rumbling through his chest. “I’m fucking lucky you like me cariño.”

You smiled against his lips, a laugh echoing around the room instead of what he was ripping from you before. “I have to say I agree.”

He pinched your sides, enjoying the louder laugh that followed. You somehow made the stress of his day, of the worry about Escobar and what shit would head his way next, disappear. His mind quieted down around you which he found hard to accomplish. Except the intrusive thoughts from moments before came back and the question continued to repeat itself over and over again, feeling like a punch to the gut every time.

What happened if you got hurt because of his job?

Javier pushed his lips against yours, quickly turning your laugh to a breathy moan, because he didn’t want to hear that question. He didn’t want to dwell on what could happen if he kept this up. If he got attached. This is why he strayed far from the concept of loving people, of putting his heart in someone else’s hands. Because there would always be consequences for the act of loving; especially when it came to him.

So, he lost himself in you. Just as he always did. Except you had the small chance, the small ounce of hope of that other question he longed to hear. What if. What if this could last. This feeling of peace, of not worrying for even just a second. What if you could love him and not be chased away by his scars, by the nightmares that followed him everywhere he went.

He pulled your dress up to your waist. There would only be an hour for lunch before he had to get back to the building he’d grown to loathe, before he had to be Agent Javier Peña instead of just Javi again. Your head tilted back to give him more room on the skin of your neck, shuddering at the slight pain as he sunk his teeth into you, before he soothed it with the warmth of his tongue.

“Javi,” you moaned, sending his mind reeling.

You gripped the skirt of your dress, but he was already pushing you to climb on your desk and you followed willingly. The red lace underwear you’d worn in hopes of seeing him again, was pulled down as he lowered to his knees. He was on _his knees_ in front of you. Somehow that didn’t seem to register in you until he was leaning forward and placing one of your hands in his hair.

“Do you not want to?” Your words were breathier than you would have liked, but his nose was brushing against your clit and sending shocks down your legs.

He turned his head pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the skin of your thigh. “I didn’t get to taste you last time. I’m going to now.”

Brown eyes met yours and you melted into the desk, allowing him to open your legs wider. You’d let him do whatever the fuck he wanted to you, as long as he was touching you. The loss of his touch, of the warmth it brought; that you wouldn’t be able to take. So, you leaned back on one of your elbows, and ran a hand through his hair in a silent agreement that said _do what you want, I’m already yours_.

He licked a stripe through your folds that had you falling back onto the desk fully and arching your hips into him. A moan was wrenched out of your chest when he licked at your clit, pulling it into his mouth and sucking on it. Your hips were jolting off the desk so much that he brought an arm up to rest over your stomach in order to hold you down. He was only using his tongue and yet he seemed to be able to reduce you to a withering, whimpering mess.

“Fuck... Javi,” you panted out.

“What do you want baby?” It felt almost unfair how his voice added to the mix, making another rush of slick dripping out of you.

“More. Please.”

Words escaped you when he began to lick at you again, this time pushing two fingers into you. He lost himself on the taste of you, getting drunk and feeling as if he’d had a whole bottle of whiskey. No, but this was better than any overpriced whiskey he paid for. You tasted tangy and sweet, and drove him to the edge of whatever madness came with the haze of lust he felt for you. He continued to lick at your clit, curling his fingers in search of the spot that would undo you.

He knew he’d found it when you squealed his name, your hand tugging sharply at his hair. If anything, it made his lips curl into another grin as he groaned into you, the vibrations seeming to affect you more than he thought. You could feel it, the tightness in your stomach, the near debilitating pleasure that threatened to drown you in its depths. He could feel it to, with the way that your walls seemed to suck his fingers in deeper.

“Hermosa,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to your thigh. “Cum for me cariño.”

Just as before, your body followed his words and you were coming undone, wailing out his name as he continued to ravage your clit. The white-hot blinding release rushed through you, leaving you to do nothing but repeat his name like a prayer on your lips. He was pulling you apart and piecing you back together in mere seconds and you were thriving off of it; would allow him to keep doing it for as long as wished. His fingers continued to pump into you, but soon it became too much and you were feeling the sharp sting of pain overtaking the pleasure.

He slipped his fingers out of you when he felt you push lightly at his head. Another moan reverberated through him at the taste of you on his fingers. He didn’t know how he would be able to get enough of you, of how you sounded, of everything. Javier came to the realization that you were slowly becoming an addiction to him. You were able to weakly rise to your elbows, tugging him forward until you caught his lips in another kiss.

Now it was your turn to make him moan, sucking on his lip and whimpering at the taste of yourself on his tongue. You wrapped your legs around his hips, dragging him closer to you, before reaching for his belt. Except he stopped you and continued to press a pathway of kisses down your chest till he was tugging the top of your dress down in order to suck a nipple into his mouth.

“Javi?” you asked, quickly turning to a moan when he scraped his teeth against the skin of your breast.

He huffed out a sigh and you shivered as the heat hit your skin. “I have to get back to work.”

“Oh.” You tried not to sound disappointed, tried to remind yourself that he wasn’t yours, that this would never be more than just friends who fucked. But the small sting in your chest really let you know that you were in fact _just_ friends who enjoyed a good time together. Except there wouldn’t be anything more than that.

Javier groaned, pushing his lips against yours once more in a rough kiss sure to leave you wanting more. “I would love to go to lunch, but duty calls.”

For all he cared the Sicarios could shoot themselves. He didn’t want to leave. Not when you looked like that, spread out on your desk for him, and _asking_ him to finish what was started. This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen; to get attached to you this way. To a point where he found it hard to say goodbye. Pushing himself away from you, he took one more glance at your wrecked expression knowing that it came from him. He took one more look at your eyes that asked him to stay and he chose not to.

“I’ll see you later cariño.” He reached for your hand to help you to your feet, watching as you readjusted yourself.

“See you later Javi. Have a good day with whatever it is you do.” You smiled at hearing his laugh, the sound one you’d grown extremely fond of. “My apartment?”

A small smile graced his face, making your heart twist. “Definitely.”

He kissed you again, because he wanted to, but also because he couldn’t seem to have enough of you. You watched him leave and told yourself it was better this way. Told yourself that you didn’t need to know what he did in his job, why he ran away from where he was from, why you liked him so much. You told yourself these things, because you refused to acknowledge the way you truly felt. No, that part would remain buried in your chest, never to see the light of day.

You tried to calm your still racing heart, and instead chose to focus on the papers that still needed to be graded. If you were staying here, you’d finally have the time to get halfway through them. However today just didn’t seem to be the day for anything other than visits, because Valeria was marching her way back into your room holding two cups of what smelled like coffee.

“I can explain.” You took the coffee, expecting her to be slightly angry that you didn’t tell her about the man you met two weeks ago.

But she smiled at you instead, throwing you completely off your guard.

“Go ahead.”

You leaned against your desk, hoping that would hide what happened there, but you knew she caught it. There were things that looked different about you than when she was there earlier and if anything, her smile widened. You could see the gleam in her eyes that showed up whenever she caught you. Whenever she was ready to call you out on something, and sure enough just as you predicted.

“You fucked him on your desk, didn’t you?” she shouted, slapping her hand against the desk.

It made you cringe at what she said knowing that it was partly true. Except no matter how many times you would deny it, tell her that _no he just came in for conversation_ , she wouldn’t believe you. Valeria was more intuitive than you liked, but you couldn’t be mad about it.

“Not completely,” you mumbled into the cup. “He left for work.”

“So what? You blew him?” She said it as if she was telling you the color of the sky was blue. While you were quickly choking on your coffee.

“No!” While you do remember asking to get on your knees for him, and still would if he willingly stayed rather than leave.

“Okay so you didn’t blow him. What did he do it to you?”

No answer on your part and she had you right where she wanted you. A squeal left her lips making you wince at the high pitch, before she burst into even more laughter. She looked like she just won the lottery, meanwhile you were standing there ready to sink into the floor. You waited patiently for her to stop laughing, but she continued. Had no other teachers here done this? Been this risky with someone they actually liked. The answer was most likely no.

“I can’t believe you let him eat you out on your desk chica! I didn’t think you had it in you.” She sipped at her coffee, the look of absolute glee still in her eyes.

You shrugged, focusing more on the drink in your hand than on her. She would ask more questions about him. Who he was, what he did, where was he from, and what were you guys? Except you only had an answer to one of those questions, because you didn’t know him really. This was just an extended hookup turned to friendship that held its benefits. You didn’t know him fully.

“How was he?”

That questions certainly hadn’t been one you were worrying about answering, and you had to laugh at it. She looked at you as if you grew another head, but didn’t try to stop you.

“Still managing to keep me on my toes Valeria.”

“Someone has to,” she replied, scoffing. “Now are you going to give me the details or do I have to keep asking?”

You’d rarely divulged in the details of sex with any of your other friends. Not even with your ex-boyfriend, but Javi wasn’t him, and you weren’t with your older friends. Valeria lived for the details and it felt nice to want to share it with someone who actually cared. Leaning further against your desk you attempted to start, but all that came up was another laugh.

“He’s _that_ good?” she exclaimed.

“My leg went numb Valeria.” You were practically mumbling it, too embarrassed to say how extremely talented he really was with his tongue.

Another shriek echoed around the classroom that had you nearly covering your ears. “Mierda! Numb? Has that ever happened with your...you know?”

“My ex could barely get me off let alone make my leg go numb.” You stared into the cup of coffee hoping it held the answer of what you should do about the man who seemed to be on your mind all the time. “He’s different.”

“What do you plan to do about it? Get him to ask you out.”

“I can’t do that. You know I can’t.”

She sighed. “Right, you’re leaving. But with all the talk of you _saying_ you’re leaving, have you even started planning to actually leave?”

“I-” As much as you hated to admit it to yourself, she was right. She sat there stirring what remained of her coffee, not realizing that you were having the biggest realization you’d had since leaving your home.

You couldn’t admit that you liked Javier as more than just friends, because then you’d go down that path, you’d choose it. It would be better to remain as friends with benefits in the end, but you hated the way the word friend tasted in your mouth when it came to him. Yes, it brought you comfort to know that he was in your life, but the word friend seemed to little a word for the connection between you two.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of those thoughts for now. He said he’d meet you later, so you’d worry about it then. Instead, you turned your attention back to the papers that needed to be graded and filed in order. What remained of the day was slowly fading away and you wanted to be done before you left.

Valeria stood seeing you turn back to the papers. “Don’t let him hurt you like the last one did okay?”

You smiled at her, wiping the mixture of emotions that were on your face. “I won’t.”

Yet something told you that she didn’t believe it, and you weren’t even sure if you believed it yourself anymore.

\-----

“Where the hell have you been man?” Steve called out, as soon as he saw Javier walk back into the building and sit at his desk.

“Lunch.”

“Lunch? That’s all I get?” Steve lit up another cigarette. “We’ve had more info come in on Poison’s friend and you’re going to want to hear it.”

Javier practically collapsed into his chair, the shitty piece of furniture doing nothing to help his back. “What did he decide to repent for his sins? Turn himself in?”

He heard Steve huff out a laugh, but didn’t bother with it. Another cigarette to stave off the other emotions he didn’t wish to focus on, to put his nerves at ease and give himself a breather. He blamed the damn things for everything and yet he still smoked, still lit them up like _they_ were the reason he breathed. This one was to shove away the hunger he felt for you, the memories of earlier were definitely going to haunt him until he saw you again later.

A paper was slid in front of him as Steve leaned on the desk. Javier barely read over the first few lines before he was sitting up fully, the chair creaking in protest at his fast movement. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he scanned the paper, the knowledge practically laughable with how lucky they finally got.

“He’s actually turned himself in?”

“Showed up right after you left claiming he didn’t want anything to do with Escobar anymore.” Steve threw another file on his desk, this one coming straight from Carrillo himself. “We’re meant to go speak to him before they you know...”

Javier was already getting up, putting out the cigarette on his way. “Where’s he being kept?”

“In an office downstairs. He’s cooperating so far, but for all we know anything he says will lead us on another fucking chase.”

If they were able to get this lucky, find a man on the inside who was willing to work with them, then they’d have a lead. After so long of not finding anything, or finding measly bits of information, they had _something_. And something was better than nothing at this point. He could see the guards at the door and nodded at them, already knowing they were here on order of Carrillo. The door was shoved open and there sat the man who seemingly wished to turn himself in, which Javier still felt on the fence about. There had to be a good reason for doing so.

Steve dragged a chair across the floor, the sound making the man at the table wince. The silence filled the room, bringing an uncomfortable feeling with it, but Javier didn’t bother focusing on it. Instead, he took a seat, leaned back in the chair, and lit another cigarette. _To stave off the nerves_ he told himself, and even he knew that he was telling the truth this time.

“You speak English?” Steve asked.

The man nodded warily. “Yes,” he replied. “My girlfriend taught it to me.”

Javier blew out the smoke. “Novia? Si?”

“Si, mi novia. Porque?”

“Who is she?” Javier usually didn’t bother with the easy questions, wanting to get straight to the point, but this man was willing to help them. So, he figured he’d try being nice for once. He nearly smiled at what your reaction would be to him _trying_ to be nice. You’d probably laugh.

“Do I have to tell you? I thought you just want Escobar.”

Steve slid a pen and paper across the table. “Sign this first.”

“Written agreement?” Javier mumbled to Steve, seeing him nod. It must have been Carrillo’s idea.

“What do you want to know?” the man asked.

“A name would be good first,” Javier replied. “We have you down as Toro, or formerly known as Toro. Is that correct?” He continued once the man nodded. “Now it’s Lobo?” Another nod. “So, start off with a name.”

The man’s eyes flashed between Javier and Steve, figuring it was easier to come clean then to have them _persuade_ him.

“Oscar Jimenez,” he muttered, turning his attention to the table.

“So, Oscar.” Steve pulled the chair closer. “What do you got for us?”

“I can give you names.” That peaked their attention, as Javier sat up fully now leaning on the table. “They don’t know I’ve come here. I’m supposed to be on a run and come right back.”

“Do you know where Escobar is?” Javier asked.

Oscar shook his head. “They don’t tell us that. We just do the runs and come back. They’ve sent me to three different places this week to drop off stuff.”

So, not as lucky as they hoped, but it was a start. Javier took the form that was signed, ripping off the bottom of the paper and shoving it back in Oscar’s direction, telling him to write. He could feel a small piece of the stress chip away from him. Except there was still the overall feeling; the weight he carried pressing him down until he knew he’d collapse under it. He pushed it down and dealt with it, focusing on the list as the names were placed on it.

\------

The days ran long as always, but eventually he was able to tap out and get home. He slammed the door of his car shut and felt it; the slow leak of relief flooding his bones, giving him a chance to breathe again. They were far from ending this, far from finding out a way to get to Escobar, but it was at the end of every day that they were able to forget for just a minute or two.

He hadn’t forgotten about your offer of seeing him at your apartment. The idea almost made him giddy, but he thought back to what he just dealt with, and what he’d be bringing back with him. He didn’t want you to know what he did, for that reason alone. The fucking demons he carried to _his_ home from the building he would gladly see in his rearview mirror permanently.

Javier wanted to resist going to see you. He wanted to just go to the nearest bar, call an informant and head home. Except the longer he debated in his car, the engine running, and the minutes ticking by, the more he realized he didn’t want to find another hookup. At least not tonight. You seemed to take away any stress he had, any worries he focused on, and all it took was talking to you. So, he shoved the key in the ignition, put the car in drive, and turned right out of the lot rather than left.

In his head he replayed earlier, he gave into the memories that he had kept at bay, and without realizing it, he smiled. You were in his head. Dug down so deep into it that you had left a scar, left your mark on him without even knowing it. You were in his thoughts now more than Escobar, and Javier felt partly grateful for the minor distraction, but it also scared the shit out of him.

He could be on the other end of a gun, ready to be shot and still not feel the amount of fear he felt at the thought of breaking you. Of tainting you like he did everything and everyone he was around. You live with the amount of shit he did, dealt with the monsters he had to, and you soon became similar to them. But there was no healing factor at the end of it all; no way out of the nightmare until it ended completely. And he was far from it being over.

The sight of your apartment had his heart rate rising, and he pulled out the damn cigarettes again. One day, when he was done with the DEA, when he was out of this place, he’d throw out the last pack. He’d quit them for good. But just like the addiction of you, he couldn’t push himself to do it. Javier was a selfish man at times, except with everything he’d been through, everything he now had to live with, he deserved to be selfish.

Cigarette smoke always stung his nose slightly, the scent leaving a mark on him as well. He was sure you hated it, but then again you had smoked _with_ him. What the fuck was he overthinking so much for anyways? He rarely thought this much about seeing a woman. At least not since he was home in Texas. Opening his car door, he got out and threw the half-finished cigarette on the ground, grinding it under his shoe.

You knew he was coming, had even given out the offer yourself, so he couldn’t understand what his problem was.

He cursed at himself in Spanish, before walking towards your door. This was getting ridiculous. He shouldn’t feel nervous about seeing you, he shouldn’t be wondering if you felt the same way, and he really shouldn’t be thinking of anything but being your friend. Because that’s what this was. A friendship that he didn’t intend to screw up with his damn feelings. This is what he wanted to avoid in the first place. That terrifying state of emotions, of being unsure about someone because you weren’t sure how you felt.

Javier didn’t give himself the chance. It only meant more pain along the road; more hurt he didn’t want to carry.

His mind continued to scream at him, telling him to turn back and go home. Do what he would have done before you, but then you opened the door, and his mind shut off. All the worries he had to deal with, all the frustration he felt at himself, faded with the sight of you still in the summer dress from earlier and a smile on your face.

“I figured you ditched me,” you teased, letting him in.

“Just a long day.”

You understood that. After he left your classroom and you had your little talk with Valeria, you sat trying to focus on the papers in front of you. But there was still the raw need in the back of your mind that flared up every time you allowed your mind to wander back to him. You didn’t know how he simultaneously had given you the best orgasm since you last slept with him, and left you wanting more, but he did it.

The tired look in his eyes let you know that his day differed from yours. That he didn’t want to talk about it, and so you let him do what he wanted. You let him collapse on your couch, stripping himself of his jacket and taking the glass of whiskey you handed him. All that remained between the two of you was silence, but with Javier it felt nice. With him it felt like you were having a conversation without needing to say a single sound.

That is, until he decided he wanted to talk to you. He wanted to hear your voice, and needed you to drown out the noise that began to get louder in his mind.

“You look tired,” you said.

He huffed out a laugh. “You can just say old cariño.”

“I didn’t mean old!” You tried not to laugh, but he made it impossible. “If I meant old, I would have said so Javi. You’re anything but.”

“I feel old.”

“Well, if you were old you wouldn’t have been able to make my leg go numb with just your tongue earlier.” It was meant to be a joke, and in a way, it was, but the shift in the air wasn’t lost on you. The tension now rising until you could feel it sparking across your skin.

He downed the rest of the whiskey. “Numb huh?”

You nodded, not trusting your words anymore. For all you knew you’d blurt out another thing that you couldn’t take back. Another thing that would turn this into more than just a friendly conversation.

“I blame the way you taste,” he said, effectively causing you to clench around nothing, and tear your eyes away from the floor back to him.

The air in your lungs was gone at the sight of his dark eyes staring back at you; the need from earlier shooting through your body once more. He just got there. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall into the trap of his eyes, into what you knew he could make you feel. So, you decided to hold onto the aspect of friendship, that still dangled between the two of you, a little longer.

“What did you do after you left?” you asked.

It worked. The tension deflated as the searing lust began to fade from his eyes.

“I went to work.” Javier got up to pour himself another glass of whiskey, debating on pulling out his pack of cigarettes. If you wanted to talk about his day, he’d need it.

“Right. The mysterious job you won’t tell me about.”

He moved to sit back down, closer to you than before. “You’re a curious one cariño.”

“Can you blame me?”

“I can tell you, but that’s it on the question about my job okay?” You could see the serious undertone of his words, the finality of them, and you nodded. How you ended up turning the tension into utter stupidity on your end must have been a talent, but you went with it. “DEA.”

You nearly dropped the glass you were holding. “Holy shit! DEA?”

Javier sighed. “So, you know about us.”

“Know about you guys? You’re all over the place. So, when you said you were the opposite of a Sicario...”

“I meant it.” He shifted on the couch so he could see you better. “What about you? Have any Sicario friends I should know about cariño?”

“I’m an English teacher Javi. There aren’t any Sicario’s in the school I teach at,” you scoffed.

“Just had to make sure. I hope I didn’t get you in trouble earlier.”

You tilted your head. “Trouble?”

“The woman there. She seemed to look important.” He thought on it for a moment and panicked. “She’s not your boss, is she?”

“Valeria?” He nodded, confusion crossing his face when you laughed. “I’m pretty sure the only trouble you got me in was me now having to be reminded by her of what happened. She’ll never let that go.”

“I didn’t want to be the reason you got fired.” He could see your eyes soften, the look nearly having him collapse into you with the flood of comfort it gave him.

"She won’t tell a soul. Besides I’m pretty sure she’s done worse with her new boyfriend Oscar. It’s why I don’t sit anywhere when I go into her office.” You set the glass down, not seeing the way his eyebrows shot up.

“Oscar?”

You nodded. “She met him recently. I think they’re pretty serious already though, because she’s been talking of moving in with him.”

No matter how much he didn’t want it to happen, his mind reeled back to the man him and Steve interrogated earlier. Oscar Jimenez. There were a lot of Oscar’s in Colombia, so it couldn’t have been the same man, but still the thought that you had a small piece of a connection to the horrors of his work nearly had him asking more about this man. He didn’t want to scare you, but he could feel the worry build in his chest.

“Javi? Are you okay?” you asked, seeing the way he froze on the couch.

He didn’t want to talk about his job anymore, or even think about it for that matter. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid happening. You figuring out what he did, what kind of connections he had. It was only one step away from you entering the nightmare yourself, and he couldn’t have that happening. So, he did the only thing he _could_ do to get his mind off of it; to change the topic permanently.

Setting the glass on the coffee table, he wrapped a hand around your jaw, dragging you closer until you were centimeters away from his lips. Until he got the confirmation from you that he could continue. It was when you leaned in, eyes already closing, did he snap. Javier never wanted to take his work home, but he didn’t mind finding a way to take it out by exerting energy.

His lips molded against yours roughly, pulling you deeper into him until you were practically leaning on him. Your head spun as he kissed you like this, his tongue pushing against yours, licking into you and tasting you as if he’d never get enough. This kiss was different from earlier, from the heated one in your classroom. He was trying to kiss you to forget something, to keep his mind off of something, but you didn’t mind. You’d allow him to do it.

“Javi,” you gasped. “Wait.”

He froze immediately, pulling back like you’d burned him and giving you space. Kissing you had been a mistake. He shouldn’t have been looking to forget about his day in you, and he was getting ready to apologize, to say that he could still get food and bring it back here. But you had the words dying in his throat when you pulled up your dress, up and over your head, letting it flutter to the floor. His mouth going dry at the sight of you.

“Move.” You pressed a hand to his chest, and forcing him to sit properly on the couch, before climbing into his lap.

The awestruck look on his face told you this was all worth it. That you had him right where you wanted him. His eyes still held the exhausted look in them, the stress from his job getting to him, and you were determined to help wash it away. To make him forget about all of it. He wanted to lose himself in you, to come out at the end only knowing your name, then you’d do it for him. You’d be what he took his stress out on.

“Dios mio,” he muttered to himself when you straddled his lap, his hands coming up to your hips and gripping. “And here I thought your coworkers called you inocenica cariño.”

You laughed, brushing your lips against his. “Let’s just say you bring the sinner out in me.”

He heard you begin to say something else, but cut you off, bringing his hand up and clutching the back of your neck. After pulling your lips away twice, he was ready to devour you; have you screaming for him like earlier. Except he wouldn’t stop then. He bit at your bottom lip, dragging a ragged gasp from him, at the same time his hand came up to cup your breast. There was an urgency between you two, the passion as raw and fiery as the night you met him.

The bra you wore was soon discarded to the side, his lips trailing down to wrap around your nipple. His tongue ran over the skin as he sucked and scraped his teeth against it, causing you to tilt your head back, unable to focus on anything but him. He pinched to other nipple in between his fingers letting out a groan when your hips rolled against his.

“Fuck Javi...I need you,” you gasped out, reaching a hand up and pushing it through his hair.

He didn’t want this to be quick, but the look in your eyes told him that this wouldn’t be the first round of the night. He wanted to feel relaxed after you’d let him go however many times he needed to.

You tugged on his belt buckle, undoing it and reaching into his pants, happy to feel that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. The noise that left his lips had a rush of heat going through your body, the wetness pooling in your underwear. Him with his head tilted back as you worked him with your hand, swiping your thumb over the tip every few strokes, was all you needed. He was in absolute bliss, but even he could feel his release begin to build fast.

“Stop-I want to be inside you.” He panted out, the words effectively stopping you in your movements and giving him a moment to recover from nearly falling off the edge.

You waited patiently, willing to take however long he needed, but it didn’t take him long to yank you forward until you were fully seated on him. He connected his lips to yours again, distracting you from what he was doing, and it wasn’t until you felt the press of his head at your entrance did you pull back. Two weeks since he’d been inside you, two weeks since he felt your walls clamp down on him, overwhelming in the heat that was you. He didn’t want to slam into you, resisting from it, but it seemed that you didn’t want the same.

The sting of him sliding into you felt deliciously painful and had your toes curling, but you needed more. You didn’t bother letting him know what you were doing, choosing to sink down fully onto him in a swift motion, embedding him fully in you and pulling a broken moan from him. Javier’s head flew back, hitting the back of the couch as he tried to remain in control.

Your hands met his shoulders, gripping onto him when you moved, shifting your hips forward and hearing another sound tear from him. He was practically delirious with pleasure, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips when you moved. Soft words began to gall from his lips, the once quiet man now speaking words of heat for you. _Hermosa_ , _look so fucking good riding me_ , _fucking me like this_. All of it had you speeding up the movements of your hips, his eyes burning into yours, and hips shifting upwards to slam into you.

“You-fuck-you going to cum for me cariño?” he asked, his thumb finding your clit and pulling a moan from you.

Nodding your head, you clenched around him when he pinched your clit between his thumb and forefinger. The release that threatened to overtake you was slowly building up. A soft heat that curled at the base of your spine until it spread through your body, and you continued to roll your hips, lifting off him and sinking back down every few times. This was the heat that you loved, the feeling of nothing but him overwhelming you. Except he needed more. He needed to hear you scream for him.

Javier tugged you down onto him, as he shifted on the couch, giving him more access to thrust up into you. A cry left you at the first harsh thrust, and he had to bite down on his lip to stave off from letting go. Instead, he looked up and focused on you. On the sight of your eyes shut in pleasure, breasts bouncing with each thrust up into you, and the sounds you made for him. You cried out his name when the heat became a fire, searing its way quickly through you until there was nothing but that.

“Rub your pretty little clit for me baby,” he grunted out, the slap of his hips against your ass along with the wet sounds of the both of you, echoing around the room.

He nearly lost it when your fingers dipped down, rubbing tight circles around your bud, tearing another sound from you. Except he forced himself to watch you fall of that cliff, to watch you give into all of it because of him. He leaned forward, biting lightly at your nipple and thrusting up into you harshly. And that was it. You screamed his name, nails digging into his shoulder, as you clenched around him. He felt wetness hit his stomach and realized what had happened, but he didn’t have time to say anything, praise you for what you’d done, because his release was slamming through him.

Letting out a curse that sounded more like a growl he buried himself as deep as he could in you, his release filling you and leaving him dizzy. It was only after he could open his eyes did he feel you collapse forward onto his chest, a light laugh leaving your lips.

“Did you manage to destress?” you asked.

“How did you-”

You silenced him with a kiss. “I know stress when I see it Javi.”

Peaceful silence filled the room, the sounds of only your breaths breaking it every once in a while. He found that you were right. The weight on his shoulders felt lighter, his chest lightening up from the pressure on it all day. He could really go for a cigarette at this point, but he was still buried inside you. Your hand slipped down and froze at the mess on his lower stomach.

“Did I-”

“Squirt on me?” He pressed his nose against your temple. “Yeah, you did, and you’re going to do it again later for me.”

A whimper fell from your lips when he gave a shallow thrust up into you, his cock twitching within your walls. He was far from done with you, but he figured he’d give you a small break before destressing some more. After all, you needed it just as much as he did, with the job you led. At the moment, he felt content to just lay there with you, his arms around you and your head against his chest.

\------

Javier felt greedy for wanting this, for wanting you at the end of the day, but he couldn’t allow himself to think about it. That only meant he would have to admit the other thoughts about you that he didn’t want to bring up. The same questions as before. The same one’s of what if.

What if this was only temporary? He didn’t know why that left him with an ache in his chest.

After going at it for several more hours until he had your voice going hoarse, and your body writhing in overstimulation, you had finally fallen asleep. But he had stayed awake, because he knew what happened when he slept. The damn nightmares that happened every night of whatever shit he was dealing with. It followed him wherever he went, because he let it. Except there would be no hard line in the sand for him.

There was only ever this. His job consuming him until he didn’t know if he was a hero at the end of the day or another villain.

He smoked another cigarette to get rid of those thoughts and hopefully lull himself to sleep. You shifted in your sleep, your hand coming out to rest on his bare stomach and he felt a smile creep up on him. The nature of the job was to be plagued by demons, but you were far beyond that. You were a small sliver of light that he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to have found.

Javier could be greedy just this one time in his life, he could be greedy with you. But that still left him with the fear of what that greed would do to you.

Putting out the cigarette he settled onto his side, throwing an arm over you and closing his eyes. Maybe tonight would be different, would leave him with a blank mind rather than a tortured one. Your soft breaths hit his chest helping to bring him to the precipice of sleep, and right as he fell over the edge, allowing it to consume him, a memory popped up. One he thought he’d lost; one with you.

_“Don’t even think about it Javi,” Steve said._

_“About what?” His eyes followed you until you were disappearing into the throngs of people, probably never to be seen again._

_"We’ve got a job to do. And I want to fucking go home soon. So, keep it in your pants.” Steve turned his gaze back to the driver’s side window._

_His mind kept going back to you the entire time he sat there and he wondered if maybe when this was over, he could get out of the car and find you. Except only he knew that you were pretty much gone. He was DEA and could find anyone, but a little voice in his head told him that he shouldn’t find you._

At least not yet.


End file.
